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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28481775">The Five Stages of Love</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SNQA/pseuds/SNQA'>SNQA</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Gilmore Girls</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Divergence — Season 2, F/M, Smut</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 15:32:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>22,727</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28481775</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SNQA/pseuds/SNQA</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Luke is faced with a painful decision about his relationship with Lorelai after a car accident in Stars Hollow threatens to tear their friendship apart forever.</p>
<p>This story starts during Luke and Lorelai’s heated argument in Season 2’s, "Teach Me Tonight", diverging from there.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Luke Danes/Lorelai Gilmore</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>72</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Anger</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is my first post for the Gilmore Girls' Fandom, so please be gentle!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>“If you hadn’t brought him here, none of this would’ve happened,” Lorelai raged as she berated Luke in the middle of the dark, empty diner. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“This is my fault?” Luke questioned, his brow furrowed, shocked by her accusations. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yes, it is your fault!” She hollered, her eyes wide. “You told him to come. You let him stay. Everybody hated him, everybody knew he was trouble, but you wouldn’t listen and you wouldn’t send him home and now my daughter is in the hospital!” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Luke glared at her coldly before moving past her, throwing open the diner door and walking out, leaving Lorelai momentarily stunned. She quickly regrouped and turned to follow him, barely taking a breath as she continued her verbal assault. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You kept pushing them together. You asked her to help him study. You knew she’d never say no. I told you it made me nervous. I told you I didn’t like it, and I should’ve stopped it right there. But you thought Rory would be good for Jess, never mind what he’d be for her. That wasn’t important at all, was it?” Lorelai huffed, keeping pace with Luke’s long strides but still lagging a couple of steps behind. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Of course it was important,” Luke responded as he continued to walk with determination towards the center of town, turning his head just slightly in her direction as he spoke.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Why didn’t you put a stop to it at the first sign of trouble? Why didn’t you make him leave?” she asked, almost pleading with him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But Luke knew that no answer would appease her — not when she was like this. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He’s my nephew. I had an obligation to take him in. I had an obligation to care for him,” he countered, pointing sharply towards the ground to emphasize each fact in his defense. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You had an obligation to this town and to me and to Rory. Wait. Where are you going?” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Luke shook his head, his eyes rolling as he tried to refrain from completely losing his temper. “I have to find out where Jess is.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, I’ll tell you where he’s not – he’s not in the emergency room having his arm plastered up!” Lorelai scoffed, her voice quivering with anger and fear and judgment. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The last straw was broken.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Unable to listen to any more of Lorelai’s scolding, Luke turned and leaned into her, his face reddening as he finally let loose. “Hey, I am sorry about Rory. You know I care more about her than I do myself, but at least you know where Rory is, and at least you know that she’s okay. Now, I have to find Jess and I have to make sure that he’s okay, and if that cuts into your screaming time, well, that’s just too damn bad!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Go to hell!” she yelled. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Right back at ya!” he fired, matching her intensity. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He turned and stormed away from her, his fists clenched in tight balls, his breathing heavy with rage and worry. His mind, however, remained singularly focused on finding Jess, needing to know if he was okay.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Luke’s brisk walk quickly transitioned into a steady jog as he headed through the town to the lake. He knew Jess would be there. It was the only place in Stars Hollow where he seemed at ease. Maybe Jess subconsciously regarded the lake as the site of his own baptism, his induction into the world of Stars Hollow where Luke had lost his temper and sent him for an unexpected swim. Maybe that's why he was so at peace there; he had been cleansed of all past sins and allowed to start anew. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Luke scoffed at his own absurdity as he turned the corner leading him to the lake and to Jess.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The small orange glow of a cigarette caught Luke’s eye as he approached the lake. He hesitated, squinting to make out the silhouette of his nephew sitting on the edge of the old wooden bridge. Jess’s head hung low as he took a long drag and exhaled a billowing cloud of smoke into the night air. Luke immediately relaxed, as if his rapid heartbeat and frazzled nerves were somehow calmed by the secondhand smoke.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As Luke stood at the foot of the bridge, his heart suddenly broke for the kid. Fatherless, basically motherless, and stuck with his sorry ass as the only person in the world whom he could count on. And he failed him. Just as everyone had predicted. Lorelai was right — he had no idea how to parent. Jess was right — he interferes and only makes things worse. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Luke inhaled deeply as he slowly moved towards him, each heavy step producing a corresponding crackle from the aged planks beneath his feet. But Jess’s gaze remained fixed downward, his eyes seemingly in search of the answers to life and love in the murky water below.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I made sure she was okay,” Jess declared, but was betrayed by the obvious regret in his voice. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Luke paused briefly before he spoke, his voice soft and reassuring. “I know you did.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jess wasn’t injured, but he wasn’t okay, either. Luke could see that. And it left him feeling so incredibly useless — just as when Liz ran off with Jess’s father so many years ago. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The bridge squeaked again as Luke crouched down to sit beside him. There would be no hug, no arm wrapping around his nephew to show him he cared and supported him. Just sitting in silence was hopefully enough to prove those feelings existed. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Luke stared out across the lake, the moonless sky providing the perfect backdrop to the darkness that summed up the aura of the night. He had really grown to care for Jess — not only out of familial obligation but also a real connection, even if it was concealed underneath turbulence and friction. Why couldn’t Lorelai see how much he cared for the kid? It was her turn to help him this time! Rory’s fractured wrist would heal without a scar, but Jess had many scars that went so much deeper than a wrist bone. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The clicking sound and burst of orange light as Jess lit another cigarette snapped him out of his silent reverie. Luke glanced over at the boy, briefly studying his face, noticing his quiet introspection and concern for Rory. He was suddenly flooded with a sense of pride, even vindication, feeling as if he could finally sketch out Jess’s true nature. Maybe he was the only one who could see it, but that was enough for him at the moment. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> Lorelai was wrong. They were all wrong.  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yes, Jess was struggling to find his way in life. But he was never given the opportunities or the love that Rory was given. He didn’t have a stable mother or a stable home. He didn’t have the love of two parents, like Luke himself had, even though he lost both of them way too early on in life. Maybe Jess was a little like himself when he was a teen — tough and headstrong on the outside but still with the capacity to love and empathize. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>But Jess has so much more potential than Luke ever had. He was so damn smart. Rory saw it. He could almost understand how the Gilmores felt when Lorelai ran off at such a young age, squashing all of their hopes and dreams for her. But they were so wrong about her. He couldn’t understand how they could consider her a disappointment. Lorelai succeeded in so many ways and on her own terms. That’s what gave Luke hope for Jess’s future. Maybe he could be for Jess what the Gilmores couldn’t be for Lorelai — someone who would always be there for him, no matter what. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>As they sat there in silence, Luke’s head started to spin, anticipating all of the inevitable repercussions of tonight’s events and considering the best ways to deal with them. He envisioned Lorelai leading Taylor, Dean, and the rest of the town with torches and pitchforks, pursuing them in retaliation — their heads ending up on spikes right next to the Stars Hollow welcome sign.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As if Jess could read his mind, he broke the silence. “I think I should go back to Liz,” he said softly, his gaze still downward as he tossed the cigarette butt into the water below. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Luke looked over at him as Jess lifted his head, their eyes finally meeting. “Yeah,” Luke nodded reluctantly. “Yeah.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Defeated, Luke slumped forward, his head resting in his hands, surrendering to the gravity of Jess’s words which weighed heavily in his heart and mind. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>His failure was complete. </p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>—————————————————</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>It didn’t take long for Jess to gather his most important belongings and shove them back into the same worn-out duffle bag he came into town with a few months ago. They rode in silence towards Harford, Luke concentrating on the road to get Jess safely to the last bus of the evening going to New York. There were no goodbyes, just a remorseful nod from Jess to his uncle as Luke handed him a white envelope filled with twenty-dollar bills. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jess shook his head and tried to hand the envelope back to Luke. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Take it,” Luke insisted, gently pushing Jess’s hand away. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Thanks,” Jess mumbled, shoving the envelope into the inside pocket of his jacket and turning towards the bus. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Call me when you get there,” Luke shouted out, right as Jess boarded. But he quickly disappeared behind the glass doors, which squealed loudly as they closed, drowning out Luke’s voice. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Luke stepped back from the bus as its engine revved up and lurched forward. A chill moved through him as he stood there, his arms crossed over his chest, as he tried but failed to get one last glimpse of Jess through the windows as the bus drove off into the night.  </p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>————————————————— </p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>It was after midnight by the time Luke returned home. He entered his apartment and surveyed the room. It was only slightly less cluttered than it was a few hours ago, with just a small portion of Jess’s stuff now gone. But to Luke, it felt empty. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He grabbed a beer from the refrigerator, popped the cap off, and pitched it perfectly into the open trash can that stood about fifteen feet away from him on the other side of the kitchen — his aim clearly not affected by his current state of mind. He guzzled down about half of the bottle before plopping onto his comfy leather chair. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>As he sipped the rest of his beer, the events of the last few hours came flooding back. But he wasn’t thinking about Jess anymore. It was Lorelai. Like so many tortured nights over the years, he couldn’t get her face out of his head. That beautiful face that filled his heart with love and his body with desire. But tonight was different. Tonight when he closed his eyes, he saw her silky white skin flushed red with anger. Her clear blue eyes, cold and icy. Her pouty pink lips pulled thin and tight. Her voice harsh and her words damning, cutting into him like a knife, ripping his heart out of his chest and tearing it to shreds.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> How can she think that I don’t care about Rory? About her?  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>His emotions drifted from anger to guilt to hurt and back to anger again. All the things he’d done for them — had they suddenly been forgotten? </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Luke had done just about everything Lorelai had ever asked of him and so many things she never had to ask. He was the one who always came to her rescue. Her friend. The person who could never say no to her. A broken porch rail —  there he was with Bert to fix it. Someone to bid on her crappy Pop-Tart filled basket — there he was, saving her from the double pathetic. Then there was the ride to the hospital when her father was sick — staying with her, comforting her without hesitation, even though being there made him recollect his own painful loss. There were interest-free loans offered, a festive Santa burger cooked, a wedding chuppah built, and a baby chick rescued. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>His broad shoulders were always available when she needed one to cry on; when her heart was broken or her ego deflated by men who were never good enough for her in the first place. He was still there for her, even though those times were the hardest, when it hurt him the most. When it broke his heart into pieces and he had to muster all of his courage to make sure she knew that it was their mistake. Their loss. Luke would reassure her, in his own gruff way, that she was beautiful and smart and perfect —  any man would be crazy to think otherwise.  And yet here he was, the man standing right in front of her, every damn day, serving her coffee and pie and burgers; who would sacrifice everything to be one of those men, just to be given a chance to make her happy. To provide her with everything she ever wanted and needed. The whole package. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>And Rory. Sweet, beautiful, brilliant, Rory. He’d fight any man who’d break that girl’s heart. Lorelai knew that. She’d witnessed it firsthand with Dean outside his diner. And if he believed that Jess intentionally hurt her, he would have kicked the living shit out of him, family or not. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>How could Lorelai not know that? How could she ever doubt his devotion to <em> his </em> Gilmore girls?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But they weren’t his — neither one of them. Rory had a father. And Lorelai had...anyone but him. And Luke could no longer delude himself into believing that he had any chance of changing those facts, no matter how hard he wished for it, or how hard he tried to prove himself worthy.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Luke finished his beer and placed it on the coffee table in front of him, then sank down further into the worn, understuffed chair cushion, his cap getting knocked off his head in the process. The alcohol and his utter exhaustion finally kicked in. His eyes fluttered shut as he drifted off, and once again, he saw her face before him, but now smiling and beautiful. And for the moment, he was at peace. </p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>—————————————————</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>The phone rang at 3 am, startling him awake. It was Liz, letting him know that Jess arrived home safely. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>After a quick “okay”, he hung up the phone, cutting her off as she rambled on about something to do with Jess and her latest boyfriend and a missing carton of cigarettes. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>His head was foggy, his back ached from sleeping in his chair, and he knew there was no way in hell he would be able to fall back to sleep at this point, especially knowing that he’d need to get up only two hours later to get the diner ready for opening. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Luke ran his hand through his hair as he considered an entire day at the diner — it was daunting. He couldn’t face Lorelai if she decided to forget last night’s tirade and come in for her morning coffee fix. He couldn’t face Rory if she possibly blamed Jess<em> or him </em> for “doing the hurting”. And he certainly couldn’t deal with the gossip about the accident and Jess’s sudden disappearance that he knew would be loudly whispered by Miss Patty, Babette, and the rest of the town yentas.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He got up from the chair and hopped into the shower, the hot, strong spray of water massaging his achy muscles as he tried his best to scrub off yesterday’s grime and guilt. Then he dressed, packed up some food for the day, and grabbed his equipment that always stood ready and waiting by the front door of his apartment.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The sun wasn’t even up yet as he slammed the door of the diner shut and locked it behind him, faintly hearing the bells jingling as he watched the hand-written sign through the glass gently bounce and sway.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He turned away and headed for his truck. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> GONE FISHING! </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>  </p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Pain</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Luke goes fishing.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This story shows a slightly darker version of our flannel hero. Beware!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p>Luke loved to fish. He loved everything about it. The sounds, the sights, the smells, the open spaces — not feeling confined by the four walls of the diner or the invisible walls of Stars Hollow. The physical motion of casting his line and watching the float bob up and down on the surface of the water always seemed to instantly relax and recharge him simultaneously. But mostly, it was the water that bewitched him; how it was always changing with the seasons and the weather and the time of day. The colors ranging from dark blue to aqua to green, reflecting the sunlight, or mirroring the foliage or the sky. It had moods, sometimes serene and still, sometimes violently rough, ready to swallow up anything that attempted to challenge it. Everything just seemed... simpler, clearer when he was by the water. Even if he came home empty-handed, it was still a better day than most others. And as a bonus, fishing meant he didn’t have to pour coffee or flip burgers or listen to whiny customers. He could just be.</p><p> </p><p>Fishing also reminded him of happier times spent with his father. He and his father would often go when he was growing up. Sometimes they’d fish from the edge of the lake. Other times, they’d rent a boat at the marina, which was a bit farther out of town. They would talk about life or baseball or girls (when it was age-appropriate) or not speak at all — they both loved the quiet companionship. </p><p> </p><p>And Luke knew his father loved their time together as well. He always seemed his happiest there — the man who barely spoke at home seemed to have lots to say to Luke during their times on the water’s edge or when gently drifting and rocking on its surface. </p><p> </p><p>It was almost always just the two of them on these trips. Liz hated fishing. She claimed she was traumatized by having to watch the fish squiggle and fight for its life — although she had no problem stuffing her face with the “catch of the day” after it was sauteed in butter and seasoned to perfection. </p><p> </p><p>As Luke grew older, their talks became more substantial. Like Luke, Bill Danes was not a complicated man. He had simple tastes and usually told it like it was, not parsing his words when he felt it was appropriate. The “birds and the bees” talk happened on one of those trips; his father speaking very matter-of-factly, using all of the correct anatomical terms, which made Luke squirm a bit, wanting it to be over so they could go back to talking about baseball stats. But Bill did add something; after all the “ins and outs” of the act were uncomfortably detailed. He told Luke to make sure he waited for love. True love. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “But how will I know?” Luke asked, genuinely concerned.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “You’ll just know,” Bill said, his smile bittersweet, before returning to talking about the Mets roster for the upcoming season.    </em>
</p><p> </p><p>On a different outing, after his father had been quiet for a while, his face solemn with introspection, he talked about going fishing with his future grandchildren one day. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Even the girls,” he would tell Luke. “Just because Lizzie doesn’t like to fish doesn’t mean your daughter won’t.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Luke would laugh at the thought of that — having kids. Growing up, he never imagined himself getting married or having kids. Maybe it was because he watched his father grieve for a woman who was the love of his life. Or that he and his sister had to grow up without a mother. There always seemed to be pain involved in loving people, needing people, because ultimately, it ended in loss. He didn’t want to feel that kind of pain ever again. </p><p> </p><p>But in his father’s last year, when Bill knew his days were numbered, and his dream of fishing with three generations of Daneses would never be, he made Luke promise to take his own kids fishing someday. The more mature version of Luke agreed — and not just to make his dying father happy. He had opened up his mind to the possibility of a life not spent alone. That’s because William Danes made sure his son understood that sometimes loving someone was worth the pain of losing them. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Being in love changes everything, Luke. You’ll see.”  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Then came the dark years when Luke couldn’t fish, right after his father died. When he couldn’t bear the pain of being there, doing that, without his father by his side. </p><p> </p><p>Eventually, when the desire to remember the good outweighed the need to forget the bad, he went back to the water. He needed those memories of his father to be out in the sunlight and not hidden away in darkness. And so he would fish, to clear his head or to think about a decision that needed to be made or a problem that needed to be solved. Or just to feel close to his dad.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Today was one of those days.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>It was an ideal day to be out in nature. The sun was shining brightly in a clear, blue sky. The air was cool and crisp — it was a perfect spring morning. </p><p> </p><p>He parked his truck at the end of the long, dirt road that led to his favorite fishing spot. It was the place he had gone to with his dad sometimes when they didn’t want to talk but just wanted to be together — it was the place his father took him to right after his mom died. </p><p> </p><p>Luke gathered his gear and prepared for the short hike ahead. There was a steep hill to climb and a rocky path to navigate, but the view and the memories made it worth the effort. He felt closer to his dad there than anywhere else.  </p><p> </p><p>When he finally reached the exact spot, where the large rock jutted out from the hill about ten feet above the lake, he inhaled deeply, taking in the picturesque view. </p><p> </p><p>So there he was, finally alone in his favorite spot. But even as he sat on the smooth rock, his line cast, watching the float bob up and down, he still couldn’t relax. He couldn’t clear his mind. All he could think about was Lorelai. Her anger. His anger. All he could feel was the pain of knowing they could never be. She’ll never want him. He’ll never have her. </p><p> </p><p>When they first met that day in the diner, he thought, maybe. Maybe he had a chance with her. It was the way she had looked at him, her eyes meeting his in long and steady gazes. It was the way she spoke to him, with familiarity and ease and intimacy —  almost as if they had already been friends, not strangers. Almost as if they had already been lovers. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> You will meet an annoying woman today. Give her coffee and she'll go away. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>He gave her coffee and she didn’t go away. He didn’t want her to —  he was hooked. </p><p> </p><p>But he was a coward. And the rumors flying around town about her were that she came from money — big-time money. Lorelai Gilmore was completely out of his league. And to make matters worse, he was already dealing with a fragile ego. It had only been a few months prior that Rachel had left him and he didn’t think he could stand to have his heart broken yet again. </p><p> </p><p>So they became friends. Good friends. He had lured her with his addictive coffee and delicious burgers and wormed his way into her life — her’s and Rory’s. She was a junkie and he was her dealer. The problem then became that the more he got to know her, the deeper he fell for her and the harder it was to cross that line. And as time went by, he decided it was better to settle for her friendship rather than risk losing her completely. Losing them both.  </p><p> </p><p>There’s a tug on his line. Finally. Luke proceeds cautiously and with patience, slowly winding the reel, waiting with anticipation to see the prize he has won. He readies his net. Still focusing on the water’s surface, he barely catches a glimpse of the pink fish, fighting with all its might to get free. He pulls up hard on his line, not wanting to risk waiting any longer. Not wanting to lose the beautiful, elusive creature beneath the blue water. </p><p> </p><p>The line snaps. It’s gone. But he’s not willing to give up. It’s still early in the day. He rethreads his line and casts it back out into the sparkling water beneath him, still hopeful his perseverance can win him what he wants.</p><p> </p><p>He knows he’s in love with her; he’s known it since they first met five years ago. But he denies it during the day — when she’s with him, drinking the coffee he made for her, rambling on about nothing of significance. When she’s just being Lorelai. Beautiful. Funny. Smart. Caring. Perfect. </p><p> </p><p>But at night, everything changes. When the room is dark he sees her. Thinks about her. What she did and said that day. Her clothing and how she wore her hair. The way she smelled — a mixture of flowers and coffee and sweetness. How she teased him with her laugh and her smile and her body and her eyes. How she looked at him. </p><p> </p><p>And every so often, there was this thing, this electricity between them that he felt so intensely. In those moments, he couldn’t wait. He couldn’t make it until nighttime. He had to excuse himself during the day when she was there. In <em> his </em> diner. When she looked so beautiful and sexy and she was flirting and he couldn’t wait until darkness set in. He’d excuse himself. Make up some bullshit reason to whoever else was working and go upstairs to his apartment. And with his lights off and the room silent, he’d think about her underneath him, moaning his name while he’d relieve himself. </p><p> </p><p>Those were also the moments when a glimmer of hope would set in. Something that powerful couldn’t have just been felt by him. Hell, everyone in the diner must’ve noticed it — felt the temperature rising in the room. Lorelai couldn’t be that obtuse. Her eyes told him that she wanted him, too. Those bright, beautiful blue eyes of hers that haunted him. That set his heart aflame. They were even more beautiful than the blue sky above him that he squinted into as he sat on the rock with his fishing pole in hand. They were clearer than the crystal water below that gently lapped along the shoreline, teasing him mercilessly with the promise of a reward, but leaving him bereft.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> No fish.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>He recast his line, again watching as the float bobbed up and down, still thinking about her. </p><p> </p><p>He knows her so well. He knows she’ll be back in the diner — she can’t live without coffee — <em> his </em> coffee. Maybe it will be today or tomorrow, or next week. They’ve never gone more than a few days without talking after petty arguments in the past. </p><p> </p><p>But this time was different for him. This one couldn’t be swept under the rug and forgotten. This one hurt. This one made him question everything and made him face his feelings for her in the harsh light of day. No more denial. He needed to decide if he could still be in her life, be her friend, knowing that she’ll break his heart over and over again. Is this pain worth the price of loving her? </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> This isn’t working. No fish. No epiphany. No redemption. No resolution.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>He wished his father was there with him. </p><p> </p><p>Luke was not a religious or spiritual man, but he looked up at the blue sky, his eyes burning with the threat of tears that wouldn't come, and spoke. “What should I do, Dad? What should I do?”</p><p>   </p><p><em> Maybe a Unabomber existence wasn’t such a bad idea. </em> </p><p> </p><p>He packed up his stuff and drove back home. Back to Stars Hollow. </p><p>
  <br/>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Chapter 3 coming soon!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Jealousy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Luke returns to Stars Hollow. Still angry. Still in pain. And now jealous of another man and a life he thinks he'll never have.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
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</p>
<p>It was dusk when Luke finally pulled back into town.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He had taken the long way home, making detours, just driving around, fighting the urge to keep going in any direction which didn’t lead him back to Stars Hollow, back to Lorelai Gilmore and the decision he faced. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It hadn’t even been a full twenty-four hours since the car accident. Since the fight with Lorelai and Jess's swift exit. But things already looked different in the town where Luke Danes grew up. Smaller. Darker. Colors muted. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Maybe he was just tired — unable to focus properly. Maybe he needed glasses. Maybe he’d had a stroke. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>As he turned the corner to finally return home, he saw it immediately — the town square lit up like Christmas. There were people milling around and food booths and the big movie screen set up in front of the gazebo. </p>
<p> </p>
<p><em> Crap! It’s Movie in the Square night. </em> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He parked his truck in front of the diner and tried to quickly unpack his fishing gear, hoping to escape the townies’ notice. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He should have kept on driving. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>But it was too late for that; he was home. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Luke was running on fumes at this point — his mind addled and his body depleted. The fishing trip had been a total bust. The only thing he had to show for the day was a mild sunburn and a new hole in his lucky plaid flannel. He was tired of thinking. Tired of feeling. He wanted to shut off his brain, take a hot shower, drink a cold beer (or two), and sleep for about twelve hours straight. But even that seemed daunting at the moment. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hey,” he heard the small, familiar voice coming from behind him as he set his tackle box and rod on the pavement. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He spun around, surprised when he saw her standing before him. “Rory,” he acknowledged, his heavy heart sinking into the pit of his stomach, perceiving a slight awkwardness between them. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>His mind flashed back to their first meeting. The quiet little girl with the angelic face. Bright blue eyes, beautiful like her mother’s, but moist and red-rimmed. There had been a freak incident — an angry squirrel with surprisingly precise aim hurling acorns. Rory took one right on the bridge of her nose. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “You look like you need pie. Cherry.” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> Her face lit up. She nodded in agreement. “With extra whipped cream?” she asked hopefully. “And coffee, please.”  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> Her mother’s daughter.   </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “It’ll stunt your growth,” he said gruffly, glancing over to Lorelai to check for approval of her daughter’s beverage choice. </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> Rory shrugged. “I’m already tall — just like my mom.” She smiled proudly.  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em> He shook his head and smiled back. </em>  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>And just like that, she had him wrapped around her finger— stealing his heart, much like her mother did, instantaneously and completely. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>How could he stand to lose them both?    </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’re back?” Rory smiled sweetly. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Luke sighed and nodded, “I’m back.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Rory’s eyes followed him as he walked to the bed of the truck and removed his backpack before closing the tailgate. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You catch anything?” she asked, her good arm clutching the side of her coat, trying to keep it closed. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Nah. Apparently, the fish went fishing also,” he said resignedly, a weak smile crossing his lips as he dropped his bag on the sidewalk with his other stuff. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Too bad,” she nodded, her big blue eyes glancing up at him innocently. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah, well…” Then he noticed it —  the cast on her left arm, peeking out from the sleeve of her trench coat. His eyes widened as he looked at the decorated reminder of Jess, the accident, and Lorelai’s tirade. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He swallowed hard, feeling a pang of unwarranted guilt. “So that’s the, uh. . .” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah,” she replied promptly. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Does it hurt?” he winced, his eyes narrowing as he recollected his own experience with a broken arm when he was young. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, not really. Just itches a little,” Rory clarified, holding her arm up, allowing Luke to see the cast in its entirety. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah, I can imagine.” Luke hesitated, glancing away from her, biding his time until he could think of something else to say, sensing that Rory had more on her mind than just fishing and fractured bones. “So, you want some coffee?” Luke offered, motioning towards the darkened diner. </p>
<p>
  <br/>
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</p>
<p>“Thanks, but I can’t. I’m meeting my mom and dad in a few minutes at Al’s booth — he’s serving Kung Pao chicken parmesan this year.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sounds...disgusting, actually,” he snorted, his eyes crinkling. “So…,” he cleared his throat, “your dad’s here.” Luke immediately glanced down at his boots, unable to meet her eyes, afraid she would notice his pain and the jealousy percolating inside of him. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah. He’s staying with us for a few days.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, well, good. That’s good. For you. And your mom, I guess,” he said, his jaw clenched tightly.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Luke picked up his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder, then picked up his rod and tackle box and started to turn towards the diner. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He glanced back at her, “Well, enjoy the — ”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So, have you heard from him?” she interrupted, her timid voice filled with desperation. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Then he saw it — the reason why Lorelai was so concerned, so hostile. He could see it in her eyes and hear it in her voice. She liked him. Cared about him. Jess. Another Danes family member not good enough for a Gilmore. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He breathed in deeply, then exhaled. “Oh, no. I talked to his mom, though. He got home okay,” he said with quiet reassurance.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Good, that’s good,” she said softly, her gaze drifting across the street to the center of town.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah, good.” Luke nodded in agreement, lifting his arm to readjust the backpack strap as it started to slip down his broad shoulder. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Rory fidgeted, picking at the slightly tattered edge of her cast with her good hand. “What about his stuff?” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, I’m gonna send it.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Right, makes sense,” she said as a forced smile crossed her lips. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Luke smiled back and started to walk towards the diner again. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Luke?” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah?” He stopped and turned back towards her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It wasn’t his fault,” she stated almost as a confession, seeking his absolution. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I know it wasn’t.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Rory nodded, lingering there in peaceful silence. Then she waved goodbye and crossed the street, heading towards the masses of people and food booths. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Luke stood there, frozen, following her through squinted eyes as she weaved in and out of the crowd, their conversation and Rory’s catharsis running through his weary brain. And just as Rory was swallowed up and disappeared from view, Lorelai emerged. With him. Christopher. And he couldn’t look away. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> I’m a goddamn masochist. What am I doing?  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Her arm on his shoulder. His hand on the small of her back. She was smiling. No longer were there signs of anger over wrecked cars or anxiety about fractured wrists evident on her face. She just looked... happy. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Luke remained stuck —his feet seemingly embedded in the cement underneath him. He continued to observe them as the last patch of pink and violet sky quickly faded into black and Lorelai and Christopher faded back into the crowd.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They were lovers — again. He was convinced.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He swallowed hard, fighting to hold down the bile that was rising up inside of him.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She didn’t see him. Didn’t even look his way. He was grateful. At least that’s what he told himself as he unlocked the door to the diner, going inside, the bells jingling, welcoming him home. </p>
<p>
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<p>—————————————————</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We’re closed!” Luke yelled as he heard the jingling of the front door. He peeked his head out from the kitchen to look into the dining area. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lorelai, locking the door behind her, turned to face a stunned Luke. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hi,” she smiled, as she stood in the middle of the diner, wearing a black, form-fitted dress, her hair down and wavy, her lips red — technicolor red. She was beautiful.  She took his breath away. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hey,” he grunted back, his eyes wide, dropping his damp dish towel on the counter below. “We’re closed,” he repeated with less conviction, his voice hoarse as his heart raced with excitement and trepidation. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She slowly walked towards him, rounding the corner of the counter next to the cash register as he stood motionless, his eyes following her every move. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice trembling. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lorelai bit her lower lip as her eyes bore into his. “Luke. Will you forgive me? I really need you to forgive me,” she begged softly, her face remorseful. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No,” he mumbled, his head tilted downward, averting her penetrating gaze.  “I… I can’t.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You can,” she whispered coyly as she moved so close to him he could feel her breath on his face. “You have to. I’m not taking ‘no’ for an answer.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She gently touched his chin, lifting it, making it impossible for him to avoid her liquid blue eyes. “Look at me,” she rasped, her lips curving into a wicked smile. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Lorelai,” he breathed, his hoarse voice making it clear that she’d won. That he was ready to admit defeat and willing to surrender himself to her, body and soul, and whatever other parts of him were leftover for her to use at will.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She placed her index finger gently on his lips. “Shhh. Don’t say anything. Just feel.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lorelai closed the gap between them, removing her finger and replacing it with her lips, kissing him tenderly, lovingly, before backing away, leaving him hungry for more.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He looked at her quizzically, his eyes wild with desire and his face flushed, while the rest of him remained frozen in place. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Without hesitation, she lowered herself to the floor, kneeling before him. Her graceful hands lagged behind her body as she seductively slid them down his broad chest, rib by rib, to his chiseled waistline. She looked up at him provocatively, then began to unbutton his jeans and pull down the zipper, about to serve him something that was definitely<em> not </em>listed on his menu. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He watched her, his mind unable to comprehend what was about to happen, but his body fully ready and desperate for what was coming next. Well, certain parts of him were ready, others, not so much. Not sure if he’d be able to continue to stand, he gripped the counter tightly with one hand to steady himself in preparation for what he was sure would lead him to paradise. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She glanced up at him one more time before pulling down his jeans and boxers, freeing his arousal, then using her soft, warm tongue to lick the tip teasingly. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, god,” he groaned as her hands clenched his bare, firm ass and her mouth engulfed his length, slowly sucking him, taking him in deeper and deeper with each bob of her head. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>With his free hand, Luke grasped the crown of her head, threading his fingers in her dark, thick locks, unable to resist the urge to guide her tempo, faster and faster as his highly aroused body demanded. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Please,” was the only word he could utter as he watched her, beautiful Lorelai, with her cheeks hollowed, sucking and licking him, her mouth hot and tight around him, keeping pace with his rhythmic thrusts.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>His eyes closed and his head tilted back, moaning loudly as she set his body aflame. He was so close to exploding in her mouth when a loud, buzzing noise rang in his ears, startling him out of his frenzied state. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lorelai immediately released him from her grasp, looked up at him, and smiled, “Time to wake up, Luke.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Luke’s eyes popped open, his vision slowly coming into focus as he gazed up at the ceiling of his drab apartment. His hand wandered aimlessly, searching for the evil alarm clock that ruined his glorious dream—turning it off with a hard smack. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He again closed his eyes, trying to recapture every graphic detail of his dream while using his hand and imagination to finish what was started. It didn’t take long before he was able to find his release, which coincided with an anguished moan. </p>
<p>
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</p>
<p>—————————————————</p>
<p>
  <br/>
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</p>
<p>The breakfast crowd had come and gone. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>No Lorelai. No morning coffee with free refills. No complaints about eggs on top of pancakes with ogling eyes or cell phone signs being ignored or bickering about… everything and nothing at all. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He wasn’t sure if he was disappointed or relieved. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Luke had tried not to think about her, but Lorelai's presence was everywhere. The smell of the brewing coffee. The sound of the sizzling bacon on the grill. Even the paint on the walls — all reminders of her entrenched existence in both his diner and his world. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Then there were the little whispers throughout the diner. Of course, most were loud and raspy and not whispers at all and came from a certain neighbor of Lorelai’s. Luke had overheard Babette tell Miss Patty that she had seen Christopher’s car parked in front of Lorelai’s house for the last three days and that the three of them had been spotted all over town together by Eastside Tilly, as well as some of the other town gossips.<em> And </em> that they looked like the picture-perfect family — “good enough for a GAP ad,” was the quote Babette repeated ad nauseam.    </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Luke tried unsuccessfully to ignore it all. He should have been relieved that the focus was off of the accident and that no one was gossiping about Jess, at least not in front of him. But it enraged him. Consumed him. And let’s just say that Luke had a difficult time hiding his true feelings. Grumpy diner guy was super extra grumpy today and it did not go unnoticed by his regulars. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>So when he saw them across the street through the window, it was too much, too real for the daytime when Luke could actually process its existence. Lorelai, Rory, and Christopher, walking side by side, with their matching Weston’s coffee cups and their trendy, casual attire, talking and smiling and looking every bit the image that Babette had described. It wrecked him, more than he could have ever imagined. He hated her for it. For not loving him. For giving her love instead to the man who gave her up. Gave Rory up. Hurt Rory more than Jess ever could. How could she forgive him for that? How could she love a man who would give up the Gilmore girls?</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>—————————————————</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>Luke tried to keep his mind busy for the rest of the day. Caesar handled the front of the diner while Luke stayed, or rather hid, in the kitchen. He cooked, did inventory —  anything he could think of to keep out of sight. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>During the mid-afternoon lull, he made an excuse to run to Doose’s, saying they were running low on sugar after he overheard Kirk and Taylor debating about which celebrity Christopher most resembled — Billy Crudup or George Clooney. The walls of the diner felt as if they were closing in on him. Luke had to escape. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>As he entered the small grocery, he looked around cautiously, wanting to avoid a certain person before entering the cereal aisle, which also contained the bags of sugar and Pop-Tarts— a Gilmore dietary staple. He found the sugar and grabbed it off the shelf. But as he turned, there she was, right in front of him, alone, holding a loaf of bread. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Woah,” he said, as he came face to face with her, his heart dropping down into his stomach. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Dah,” Lorelai laughed nervously. He moved around her, turning his body sideways in the narrow aisle, trying to avoid any physical contact. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sorry,” he said quietly, his head down as he swayed, gripping the sugar tightly. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She placed her hand over her heart. “No, no, I should have signaled or honked or something, my fault,” she apologized, her voice uncharacteristically shaky. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Okay,” he grunted, unable to meet her gaze, searching the store for the most efficient escape route.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She paused and sighed, tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear. “Well, um, I guess it was inevitable us running into each other. It's a very tiny community.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Guess so,” he muttered through clenched teeth, determined to keep his cool. The alternative, losing it in front of Lorelai and Captain Crunch, was not an option. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“How's the diner?” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>His eyes met hers briefly as his heart started to beat loudly in his chest. “It’s still there,” he replied flatly, quickly averting his gaze to his shoes in fear that he would either turn to stone or go into cardiac arrest if it remained fixed on hers.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yes, I knew that. I'm able to, empirically, with my eyes, uh… Hey Luke, do you think we could —”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I gotta get back,” he interrupted, turning away from her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Okay, right. Right,” she nodded reluctantly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Luke started for the exit when he realized he still had to pay for the sugar. He hurriedly found an empty line, quickly handing the cashier the sugar, along with a ten-dollar bill. He then bolted out the door, sugar in hand, the cashier yelling after him that he had forgotten his change. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He was moving so hastily out of the door that after three steps, Luke crashed head-on into a man on his cell phone, knocking the man backward and the device out of his hand. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hey, watch it!” the man shouted, as a stunned Luke took a step back, surveying the damage he caused. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sor —,” the word stuck in his throat as Luke recognized the tall, stylishly dressed man who was now bending down, picking up the cell phone that had been knocked out of his hand during the collision. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> Christopher.  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Luke regained his composure, turned, adjusted his hat and strutted towards the diner, a mischievous smile crossing his lips. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Asshole!” Christopher yelled at Luke’s back. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>As Luke reached the diner door, he turned back towards Doose’s. He could see Christopher, looking more than just slightly peeved as he talked to Lorelai, showing her his phone then pointing over to Luke. Lorelai squinted in his direction, a confused scowl on her face, as she put her hand on Christopher’s shoulder, leading him in the opposite direction of the diner. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Luke’s moment of gratification was fleeting, at best. He walked right through the diner, ignoring Caesar’s onslaught of inane questions, went upstairs to his apartment and slammed the door shut. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Shit!” he shouted into the empty void of his lonely, single guy’s apartment. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He took off his blue baseball hat, the one she gave him, and threw it against the wall. It bounced off, barely making a sound, providing no relief for the rage that was erupting inside of his tortured soul. He needed to do more. Hit something. Throw something — something that at least had the potential to do some serious damage. Anything that would make this horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach go away. Anything that could take away the stabbing pain in his heart. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Luke paced back and forth in the tiny apartment, his hands running rampantly through his hair in frustration while images raced through his mind that he had no desire to see — Christopher touching her, kissing her, laying on top of her, Lorelai calling out his name in a fit of passion.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>How could he have been such an idiot? He never stood a chance with her. She never wanted him. All those moments when he thought she might have felt it, that heat, that desire, it must have all been imagined. The toxic mixture of grease and coffee fumes reacting, corrupting his sense of reality. </p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Were you on a date?” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “No, it’s Luke, Mom.” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “Well, how am I supposed to know you weren’t on a date. It’s Friday night and you show up here with a man.” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “With Luke, Mom.” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He thought back to that moment in the hospital last year. Yeah, right. A date with him —  “burger boy”. “Ice man”. “Monosyllabic man”. It was preposterous. He’d be an embarrassment. She may have run away from that life, the one with mansions and maids and balls and fancy parties. That’s who she still is, he convinced himself. She wouldn’t go slumming with the likes of him. A man who never went to college and dresses in a uniform of plaid flannel shirts. Who never even owned a suit until she bought him one. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Christopher— that’s the man she’s supposed to end up with. The man she’s always wanted. It was never going to be him. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was all clear to him now. He had his epiphany. His soul-crushing realization. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>His anger. His pain. His jealousy — it could no longer be subdued. It was tearing him apart and he needed to cut it off at its source. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He would move on. Back to his loner existence. Back to just the guy who served them coffee and flipped their burgers. They would be fine. They had their Norman Rockwell family now. And he would survive — what other choice did he have.   </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Luke shivered as a sudden chill moved through his body. He lowered his gaze to the blue cap that was now lying on the floor, unscarred, mocking his weakness. Picking it up, he studied it intensely, his fingers tracing the lines of stitching to where they fused at the top; the small, blue, matching button seeming to hold the panels of fabric together. He had the urge to rip it off — one strong tug is all it would take — just to make sure it wouldn't unravel. That it would only leave a small, repairable hole in its place. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He carried it over to his closet, placing it on the shelf above his row of neatly hung plaid,  grabbing the light olive hat that preceded it as his favorite. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Closing one door in front of him, then another behind him, Luke Danes, wearing an olive backwards baseball hat, went back to work. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>His decision was made. </p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks to The_Nature_of_Daylight for editing and her continuous encouragement. And to Laure001 for inspiring me to be a better writer than I am.</p>
<p>CHAPTER 4 COMING SOON!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Lust</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Luke gets drunk. Stuff happens.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re closed!” Luke yelled as he heard the jingling of the front door. He peeked his head out from the kitchen to look into the dining area. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lorelai. This time wearing a red dress to match her lips. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She asked for his forgiveness. He refused at first. Then, she kissed him. It was hot and unrestrained. She told him she wanted him. Now. In the diner. On top of the table where she sat for so many meals so many times in the past. It was quick and urgent and fortunately, the alarm clock didn’t rouse him before dream-Luke climaxed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They came to him almost every night now, those erotic dreams, providing the only pleasure he had in recent days. Most of them variations of the first. Lorelai asking for forgiveness then the two of them fucking. Always in the diner. Always in technicolor. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He loved that moment — that peaceful time in between the dream and waking when it seemed so real. When it all seemed possible — that she wanted him. That she belonged to him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It had made the mornings more difficult though. Made him want to stay in bed, feeling the afterglow of his release whether it was in the dream and imaginary or when awake, brought on by his own hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Actually, he wanted to stay in bed even after the pleasant effects of the dream wore off. Maybe “want” wasn’t the correct word. That made it seem like he was happy and enjoyed being horizontal, his head pressed into his pillow; his eyes wide open staring at his clock, waiting until the last possible moment when he had to force himself to get up and start another dark day without her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he was up and about, going through the motions of his daily routine, Luke counted down the hours, minutes, seconds until he could get back into bed. When his exhaustion, usually brought about with the help of several beers, would allow him to cross into that state of consciousness where life was bright and colorful and fulfilling. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>These feelings weren't new to Luke. He had experienced them before. The darkness, the hopelessness, which surfaced and lingered after his father’s death. But he had purpose then. He had his dad’s business to transform. That kept him busy and held the darkness at bay. And then he found love. First Rachel, which was fleeting. And after her, Lorelai. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But this time was different. There was no new venture to motivate him throughout his days. No new woman to keep him from drowning in the murky waters of his existence— there never would be. She was </span>
  <em>
    <span>it</span>
  </em>
  <span> for him. He knew that. Just like his father — he’d only have one true love until the day he died. There would be no one else who could follow. It was Lorelai Gilmore for always. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He should have been grateful that it didn’t affect his business — this new, darker Luke. Despite his extreme grumpiness, his patrons seemed to accept that sometimes their hot food would be served cold, or undercooked, or burnt beyond recognition. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Caesar tried to keep Luke from cooking. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The gossiping had stopped, as well. Luke had made sure of that. He had thought about putting up a new sign next to the “No Cell Phones” sign that read “No Gossip”, but found that to be unnecessary after Kirk had broken the unspoken, signless rule, by uttering the name “Lorelai” in Luke’s presence. The resultant punishment for such an offense was carried out, literally. Kirk was physically placed (thrown) onto the sidewalk outside the diner. That incident was the only gossip allowed to be spread in the diner since. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Caesar tried to keep Luke from serving.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even though Luke was no longer in hiding, he still hid from her. She came in several days after their run-in at Doose’s. Through the window, as he was at the counter going through receipts, he saw Lorelai standing outside. She looked right at him, her eyes were wide, her lips were curved in a wary smile. He froze for a few seconds, transfixed by her gaze. But then she started slowly for the door. He panicked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Caesar!” he called to the kitchen. “I’m running out for a few minutes. Cover for me.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sure, boss!” Caesar replied gratefully to his grumpy, erratic, and potentially homicidal employer, as Luke pushed through the curtain leading up to his apartment. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He waited upstairs, feeling ridiculous as he peered through his curtains until finally seeing her leave. Even with the decision to cut her out of his life, Luke still had no plan as to how to carry it out. Would he just keep hiding from her, hoping she’d take the hint? Or confront her, and tell her, what? Blame it on the Jess situation? Tell her the truth — that he’s in love with her and can’t handle her lack of reciprocation? Nothing felt right. So for now the plan was to have no plan.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he returned downstairs to the diner, Caesar handed him a note that Lorelai had left for him. It was in a small envelope, his name written in cursive on the front. He glanced at it, fighting the urge to hold it up to his nose to see if it smelled of her. Or just tearing it into pieces and throwing it into the trash. Instead, he folded it and pushed it down into his back pocket.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was early in the evening when he decided to read it. He had felt it the rest of the day, like a big rock, weighing him down, making his legs tired and achy from the strain of carrying the extra load. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sat at his kitchen table with his unfinished turkey burger and barely picked-through salad and stared at the envelope in his hand. Tearing it open, he wondered if she had licked it shut or used a drop of water to seal it. She wrote she was sorry. She wanted his forgiveness. His friendship. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Luke didn’t throw it away. He placed it in his nightstand drawer, underneath his most recent Sports Illustrated magazine and the picture of Lorelai and Rory that Rachel had taken of them in the diner last year. It was Rachel’s parting gift to him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Seeing their smiling faces on the candid, glossy eight by ten, Luke was suddenly struck by an overwhelming sense of sadness. He picked it up, his fingers lightly skimming over the smooth surface as he studied their expressions. He wondered what they had been talking about that made them both look so happy, so content. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He placed the picture on top of his magazine, leaving the drawer open. He needed a drink. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Luke went directly over to his refrigerator, opening it up to find it completely devoid of beer. Actually, it was devoid of food as well, other than some OJ and a couple of expired yogurts. He had stopped shopping at Doose’s since the Christopher incident. Good thing he owned a diner and not a hardware store.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He took his empty refrigerator as a sign that he needed something stronger tonight. Much stronger. He needed to get drunk. Not beer drunk but whiskey drunk. There was definitely a difference in his opinion. So he left the safety of his home and headed down the street to K.C.’s. It was Tuesday. It was always quiet on Tuesdays. Not that he was in the habit of spending a lot of time there. But every once in a while, when the walls of his apartment felt like they were closing in on him, he'd go to the bar. Drink a couple of beers. Chat a bit with K.C. while watching whatever game was on the 27 inch TV that hung in the corner overhead. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The night was clear and warm in Stars Hollow, so he chose to forgo his usual flannel attire and baseball cap, instead opting for a fitted black t-shirt. Well, it wasn’t just because of the weather. He needed to feel like someone else tonight. Anyone but the grumpy, loner, diner owner, Luke Danes. He had decided this while seeing his reflection in the diner window earlier in the day, feeling that even his clothing was mocking him for being... him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was three whiskeys in when she walked into the bar. He sensed her presence; no need to even turn around and look. Maybe it was the sound that her high heels made as she walked or the faint smell of coffee mixed with flowers that subconsciously heightened his awareness of her proximity. Or maybe it was kind of a sixth sense or intuition. But really, it was him being so hopelessly and helplessly in love with her; so attuned to every aspect of her being, that he just knew the second the door of the bar opened, it was her. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He swallowed hard, trying to mentally prepare himself, knowing this time, there was no way out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She sat down on the barstool next to him. He kept his eyes on the television while he sipped his drink, trying to focus on the game. Trying, but failing. She was too powerful. He was too weak. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, I’ve been looking all over for you,” she said as she placed her purse on the bar. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, you found me. Congratulations,” he said flatly, his words coming out with a slight slur. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He still didn’t look at her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I wasn’t expecting to find you here,” she sighed, adjusting herself in the small, cushioned seat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Let me guess. Miss Patty?” he grumbled, raising one eyebrow as he shot back the rest of his drink. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course,” she chuckled. “She’s like the Wicked Witch of the West, looking at all of Stars Hollow through her crystal ball. Just without the flying monkeys.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Luke heaved a sigh, then returned his attention to the ball game. Kept up the pretense, that is. There was a more consequential game being played. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What? Not even a pity laugh?” she asked awkwardly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He squinted as he turned to face her, the light she was emitting a sharp contrast to the dimness of the bar. “Look, if you want coffee, I’m pretty sure Weston’s is still open. Or Caesar can give you what you need.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She looked beautiful. Of course she did, she always did. Her raven-colored hair was pulled into a low ponytail, her lips were red and she was wearing that burgundy wrap dress that always reminded him of Christmas — tempting him to pull the string and unwrap her like a present. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t come here because I wanted coffee. Can we talk?” her eyes pleaded with him.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Would me saying ‘no’ stop you from talking? Because that’s never worked in the past.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, probably not,” she laughed.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey! K.C.! Another one!” he called to the bartender who was at the other end of the bar, chatting with the only other patrons in the place. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>K.C. walked over to them, smiling. “Hey, Lorelai. What can I get you?” he asked cheerfully as he refilled Luke’s glass with the golden brown liquid. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Um, tequila. Patrón. Make it a double, with a lime, please.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You got it! And Luke, last one, okay? I’m not strong enough to carry you outta here tonight,” K.C. said sternly but gave Lorelai a wink before he pulled a clean glass from under the bar, filled it with her drink and returned to the other end of the bar.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lorelai, looking a bit nervous, threw back half of her drink. “Ugh!” she winced, wildly shaking her free hand while her face scrunched up from the burn of the alcohol.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Luke noticed her reaction and rolled his eyes. “That’s what the lime is for,” he grumbled, motioning to the fruit wedge that was skillfully placed on the rim of her glass. “Suck it hard.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dirty!” Lorelai gasped with mocking indignation as she brought the lime to her upturned lips, sucking as directed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Luke shook his head, snorting a laugh. “You’re good at that,” he teased, as the familiarity of their banter allowed him to momentarily forget his pain. His anger. His non-plan plan. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Again. Dirty.” Lorelai grinned flirtatiously, then polished off the rest of her drink, this time with ease as Luke observed intently — her red lips parted, making full contact with the rim of the glass before swallowing down the smooth, golden liquid. Never before had he felt such envy for an inanimate object. Well, besides the diner stool the time when it was revealed that she had gone commando underneath her short skirt. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Luke shifted in his chair, perceiving a slight tightening in the crotch of his jeans. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Already, she had him off his game. Luke tried to clear his head. This was the moment he’d been both waiting for and dreading. He needed to be strong — not cave. He needed to remain focused, which was growing increasingly more difficult considering the amount of alcohol he had consumed and how fucking gorgeous she looked tonight. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He tried to look away from her. He couldn’t.</span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” she uttered as she leaned closer to him, lowering her gaze to his muscular, bare arm and the tattoo that adorned it. Her eyes darkened as she reached over to touch the inked skin that was exposed, her fingers lightly tracing the edges. “I forgot you had this. Your arms are always covered in flannel,” her voice was soft, maybe even a little seductive — Luke wasn’t sure if his drunken brain was playing tricks on him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He watched her touch him; her unpolished fingers lingered there, burning his skin with her heat, sending a shockwave through his entire body. It made his mind wander to a dangerous place. He imagined grabbing her, throwing her on top of the bar and fucking her right then and there. Making her scream with pleasure as the rest of the patrons watched in awe.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Luke cleared his throat while also trying to clear his mind of her naked body strewn across the bar top that held his whiskey. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Afraid that the contact would remain. Afraid of its withdrawal. A hopeless contradiction. He pulled his arm away, reluctantly, lifting his drink to disguise the truth behind his action. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But he could still feel her touch on his skin — a slight tingling sensation where her fingers rested on his arm only moments ago. It made him angry knowing that it would soon fade; that he may never have that connection again.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, what did you want to talk about?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly, his gaze now focused on the rippling liquid that he was swirling around in his glass. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She licked her lips nervously before taking in a deep breath. “I hate this. I hate that you're mad at me. That you can’t even look at me right now. I’m sorry, Luke. It was a bad night. I completely freaked out. I said some things. Did you get my note? I wrote you a note.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He turned towards her, placing his elbow on the bar; his head resting in his hand as his long fingers stroked the prickly hairs that covered his unshaven jawline. “Got your note,” he confirmed, his voice flat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You got my note. Did you read my note?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Read your note.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It was very well-written,” Luke deadpanned, his eyes narrowing to two small slits. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s it?” she asked, her brows lifting up in synchronization with her slender shoulders.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I also enjoyed the Garfield stationary. That’s one funny cat,” he said with a wry smile as he tilted his head in jest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I said I was sorry, Luke,” Lorelai huffed, showing her frustration.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, you did.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I said it like a million times.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You said it four times, but I understand you’re embellishing for dramatic effects.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He straightened his back and turned away from her, taking a big swig of his drink before setting the glass down hard on the mahogany wood in front of him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re being really, really unfair. Rory was in the hospital.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Luke rolled his eyes, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled deeply. “You’re right. I’m being unfair,” he sneered, his voice filled with resentment. “But you got what you wanted. Jess is gone. All’s right in Stars Hollow once again.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> Jess to crash Rory’s car. Or Rory to fracture her wrist. Or this…” she motioned back and forth between them, “...I didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> any of it!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their eyes locked for what seemed to be an eternity. And once again, he felt himself losing control. Bewitched. Hypnotized. Falling deeply into a bright blue abyss. Suddenly forgetting how to breathe.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She looked away first, releasing him from her spell; leaving Luke to abruptly gasp for air. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He cleared his throat then finished his drink. Within seconds, his head felt so light, he thought it would float away if it hadn’t been firmly attached to his body and held down by his heavy heart. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“One more, K.C.!” he insisted, as he rapped his glass on the bar top to get the leery bartender’s attention. “I’m fine. Really. Buzzkill over here has sobered me up,” Luke griped, motioning to Lorelai. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright. Seriously, though. Last one,” K.C. conceded, giving him a less than generous pour. “Another one for you, Lorelai?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lorelai shook her head “no” without turning away from Luke. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She waited for K.C to leave them, then sighed. “You ran away from me today. When I came into the diner. That really hurt.” She hesitated, looking down at her empty glass; her face revealing her sadness and disappointment. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, this is how it’s going to be with us, now, huh?” She lifted her head, focusing on Luke once again, her voice raw with emotion.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Luke, I…” She exhaled sharply, leaving a small gap between her perfect lips.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He waited for her to speak again but no words came out. “What is it, Lorelai?” Luke broke the silence. “You can still come to the diner. I’ll still make your coffee and serve your food. Or is there something else you need? Another loose porch rail at home? Or a garbage disposal that isn’t disposing? Or can’t your boyfriend take care of that for you?” Luke sneered, cocking his head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What are you talking about?” she asked, her brows knitting together in confusion.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, he doesn’t look like the handy type. Those rich guys never are.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Christopher? He’s gone. And he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> my boyfriend. He went home. Back to his pregnant girlfriend. Fiancé, actually. What’s your problem with him, anyway?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Luke hesitated as he processed the news of Christopher’s departure, suppressing his urge to prematurely celebrate the small victory while simultaneously trying to ascertain her feelings on the matter. He studied her face, her eyes, replayed her voice in his head, concluding that her heart was broken, once again, by this poor excuse for a man and father. Then again, his deductive skills shared the same space in his head with the four and a half drinks he had recently consumed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her pain didn’t make him feel any better — he’s not a monster, for fuck’s sake. He hated seeing her sad. Hurt. It made him angry. It made him want to punch that asshole's lights out. But it didn’t stop him from unleashing that anger onto her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> “Ah! I get it. You got dumped so you need me to make you feel better.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What? I didn’t get dumped. Chris and I were never together.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So you weren’t fucking him when you were supposed to be helping me paint the diner last year?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She winced, her eyes widening as she shook her head in disbelief. “Wow! I can’t believe you’re acting like such an</span>
  <em>
    <span> ass</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So I’ll take that as a yes,” Luke mocked, as he turned from her, taking another sip of his drink.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fine. I’m not going to beg for your forgiveness.” Lorelai reached for her purse, digging her hand in as she frantically fished through the black leather bag in search of her wallet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sighing in resignation, Lorelai dropped her bag back on the bar in front of her. “Luke, what’s going on here? This isn’t you. The drinking. You’re not—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not, what? Huh? You don’t know me,” he grumbled. “But I know you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lorelai flinched backwards, her eyes narrowing. “What’s that supposed to mean?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you want from me, Lorelai?” he sighed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I want Luke back. I want my friend back!” she shouted, her brows furrowed as she glared at him, finally drawing attention from the two other patrons at the opposite end of the bar. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Friend. Yeah, right. Right,” he nodded, his jaw clenched as he stood up gingerly, grabbing the edge of the bar to keep his balance. “I gotta go. This is on me.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Luke downed the rest of his drink, took a hundred dollar bill from his wallet and dropped it down on the bar. He glanced at her, unable to process the mixture of hurt, anger, and confusion that filled her face as he slowly walked away. His own pain, combined with the effects of the whiskey, blinding him with selfish ignorance. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As he exited the bar, Luke hesitated, exhaling sharply while waiting for the darkness of the night to swallow him up. It didn’t. Or maybe it did, only to spit him right back out in the same place. Even the darkness was rejecting him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Staggering a bit, Luke headed through the town towards the back entrance of the diner, unaware that Lorelai was only a few steps behind — the excessive amount of whiskey had apparently jammed his typically reliable Lorelai radar. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he reached the door, down the dimly lit alleyway, he stopped, fumbling to secure the elusive keys that jingled in his front pocket, just out of his unsteady reach. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shit!” he mumbled, finally grabbing hold of them, lifting them out of his pants, then dropping them to the tarred pavement beneath his feet.   </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He reached down, almost losing his balance as he tried to swipe the keys from the ground, but missed widely, his blurred vision combined with his loss of coordination made it an impossible feat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Still crouching down, he squeezed his eyelids shut, then reopened, not seeing his keys but instead, a pair of black, high heeled pumps.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lorelai bent down, instantly grabbing the keys with one hand and Luke’s upper arm with the other, pulling them both up with surprising ease. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Luke blinked again, this time regaining his focus as he saw her standing in front of him, her hand still holding him upright, as they faced each other. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, now you’re following me?” he slurred, shaking himself free of her grasp. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Luke, you’re drunk.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re observant.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want to fight.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then just go home.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We need to talk about this.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Talk about what?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> friends!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, we’re not,” he rasped, taking the opportunity to swipe the keys from her hand. Quickly, he found the correct one for his door but struggled as he attempted to fit it correctly into the lock. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stop saying that! Why are you doing this?” she asked, her hands gesticulating frantically. “You’re one of my </span>
  <em>
    <span>best</span>
  </em>
  <span> friends. At least, I thought you were.” She moved next to him, her body leaning on the brick wall next to the door. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Luke finally got the key to fit, turned it and pushed open the door, leaving the keys dangling from the lock and the door ajar. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Turning to face her, his eyes dark, the corners of his mouth turned down. “I feed you. I give you coffee. I fix shit in your house. I’m there to give you attention when whatever guy you’re fucking decides to call it quits. I’m not your friend, I’m your lap dog. Well, I can’t do it anymore.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She shook her head gently, her eyes filling with tears. “I can’t believe after all these years — that’s really what you think of me? Of us?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Us?” he scoffed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, us! Luke, you’ve been such a good friend to me. And I’m… I’m so sorry about Jess. And I know I screwed up. I said I wouldn’t beg but…but, I miss you. I don’t know what I’d do without you. I just… I can’t lose you, Luke.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was getting to him. Who was he kidding —  he’d lost the battle the moment she walked into that bar. Breaking down the walls he tried to build up, brick by brick, with each word spoken. With each slight touch and with every wistful glance. He should have known he was no match for her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Luke’s head dropped in defeat, his voice tight, filled with the pain that he couldn’t express. That he tried not to feel. “I’m sorry. I can’t. It’s too…,” his voice trailed off, trying one last time to stave off her inevitable victory. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t look at her. Couldn’t let her see his eyes filled with emotion. Didn’t want her to hear the syncopated beat of his broken heart. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Too, what?” she asked softly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Look, I'm sorry about Christopher.” He tried distracting her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This isn’t about Christopher! I don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>care</span>
  </em>
  <span> about Christopher!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lorelai stepped closer to him, her trembling hands reaching out to cup his face, as he finally met her eyes. She would see the truth now. He couldn’t hide it any longer. Maybe it was for the best.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please,” she whispered. “I need you. Please tell me I still have you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her eyes were pleading with him. Desperate. Fearful. And then he felt it. Maybe it was the booze, or the moonlight or just his own desperation, but that electricity between them was there. He was certain of it. All of the time spent meticulously analyzing, what if-ing and worrying over every possible repercussion — maybe, just maybe, it was finally time to act. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And with that, he was done thinking. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Luke closed the distance between them, his arms wrapping around her waist as he pulled her towards him, his mouth landing hard on her mouth, their lips blending together with passion and longing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She didn’t resist. Her lips parted, allowing his tongue to meet hers, tender and soft, in sharp contrast to the urgency expressed in their initial connection. He tilted his head, deepening the kiss, her arms wrapping around his strong shoulders. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His hands were everywhere. On her face, then at the nape of her neck and in her hair, pulling her even closer, his mouth so hungry for hers, feeling like he still couldn’t get close enough. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was frantic. Almost violent. His lips on hers. Then on her neck —  sucking, tasting, biting. His body pushing her backward — his momentum only halted when her back was finally pressed up against the brick wall, her arms raised above her head, his hands in her hands, her knuckles scraping against the rough surface behind her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Luke lifted his head, feeling dizzy with desire, with inebriation, as he paused briefly to look at what was in front of him. This was no dream. Lorelai. Under the dim light of the alley. Her eyes wide. Her lips parted. Her chest rising and falling, breathless. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He released her arms, losing all control as his lips returned to her lips, his tongue pushing inside her mouth. He pressed his body even closer to hers — leaving just enough room for his hand to slip into the small space left between their pounding hearts. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lorelai gasped as his hand found her breast, cupping it, kneading it, his long fingers grazing her nipple through the fabric of her dress, feeling it tighten beneath him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Luke,” she breathed, as the sound he had wanted to hear for so long finally escaped her lips — his name. She was moaning his name while his lips were touching her lips. While his hand was touching her breast and his hard cock was pressed up against her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A loud moan escaped his lips as he left her mouth, ducking his head down, sliding his hand down the front of her dress, desperately needing to see and feel her skin hidden underneath it, wanting to suck and lick her nipple with the same fervor that he had shown to her perfect lips. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Peeling down the front panel of the garment, he exposed her matching red bra, then pressed his lips to her breast, sucking the beaded tip through the delicate lace. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Luke, wait,” she rasped, her breathing labored. “Please.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t stop. A tidal wave of want and need rising up inside of him, on the verge of overflowing. Rising up and washing away any sense of rational thought. Clouding his vision and muffling all sound. He had her pinned up against the wall and he couldn’t let her go. Not now. Not when he was so close to having her. So close to being inside of her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I want you, Lorelai. So much,” he groaned after releasing her breast, his mouth returning to hers as his hands slipped under the hem of her dress, caressing her thighs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Luke,” she muttered his name again, this time not soft and filled with passion, but with uncertainty and confusion, while she tried to stop his hands from their upward progression.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t hear her. Just garbled words underneath water. Luke was drowning in her.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Luke, stop,” she pleaded as she struggled to pull herself away from him— her slender body trapped between him and the wall. “Not here. Not... like... </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And with that proclamation, her hands found his shoulders as she pushed him away from her, sending him stumbling backward, both of them breathless, both of them trembling.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Luke regained his footing as his hand ran through the top of his hair, frantically trying to stop his head from spinning. Blinking his eyes, trying to refocus the two images of her back into one. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can’t. This is ...wrong. I… I don’t know what just happened,” she stammered, her words coming out in short spurts as she shook her head back and forth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wrong?” Luke’s face reddened as he moved closer to her, still struggling to bring air into his lungs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Lorelai, backpedaling.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No. I didn’t mean wrong,” she rambled, her voice quivering, her gaze off in the distance. “It was just surprising. I’m surprised.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Rejecting him. Mocking him.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And, um,…confused,” she added. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Breaking him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We shouldn’t have...I mean, not that we did...,” she demurred.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Every word of hers daggers in his heart.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> that?” she asked as a nervous laugh escaped her lips.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Then he broke.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What don’t you understand?!” Luke berated her, finding his breath; his words impulsive, reckless, contradicting the love he felt. “See, if I fuck you, then maybe I can stop thinking about you every night. Maybe I can stop wondering when I’ll see you each day. Maybe I won’t care if you’re fucking Christopher or Max or whoever else!” Luke shouted, his hand slicing through the air with precision, in concert with the rhythmic cadence of his words. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lorelai stepped back, stunned, her eyes wide and her voice brittle. “So, all these years? That’s what... you just wanted to get me in bed?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No! No, not that!...Don’t you get it?!” He cradled his face with his hands and squeezed his eyelids shut. Although it felt so wrong, he couldn’t stop himself from saying the words that he’s both wanted to say and was terrified to say for the last five years. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He uncovered his face and looked into her eyes, the bright moon illuminating her from above.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dammit, Lorelai! I love you! For five years… I’ve been in love with you!” he blurted out — so much heartbreak and longing revealed in his voice. So many years of stifled suffering now hanging thick in the night air between them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lorelai stood there — frozen. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Luke stepped back, his heart racing, his head spinning, a burning heat rising up in his throat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Luke. I…I didn’t know,” Lorelai stuttered, shaking her head in disbelief as her eyes filled with tears. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t know? Everyone knows! The whole damn town knows!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Luke inhaled deeply, looking up at the star-filled sky, praying for a sudden burst of lightning to strike him down, vaporizing him on impact. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It didn’t come. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then, he heard her. Finally. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her soft, muffled sobs growing louder, steadier. Luke saw her —  her hair and dress in disarray, tears streaming down her face. Her red lips swollen, lipstick smeared. The pain in her face and in her eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He did that. He did that to her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Christ, Lorelai. What have I done? Did I hurt you? Please. Tell me I didn’t hurt you. I would never...”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know,” she said softly, wiping her tear-stained face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stared at her, regret and self-loathing rising up within him, catching in his throat. This time, Luke wouldn’t be able to hold it down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think I’m gonna be sick.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Luke raced towards the door, pushing it open, taking the stairs two at time, hearing her voice coming from below.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Luke?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Grateful he left his apartment door unlocked, he burst through the door, straight to the bathroom, barely making it before the necessary purging began. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>One more chapter to go!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Confessions. Forgiveness. Love.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Luke is hungover. Lorelai confesses. Good stuff finally happens!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The early morning light filtering through the curtains caused Luke to stir in his bed, his arm reflexively going up to shield his face from the unwelcomed start of the day. </p><p> </p><p>He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling a sharp, throbbing pain that radiated from behind their sockets straight through to the back of his head. Trying to find a more comfortable position, he rolled over onto his stomach, but soon realized his efforts were futile. </p><p> </p><p>But the pain in his head was nothing compared to what he felt as the memories of last night’s events came flooding back into his mind. Lorelai. The bar. The alleyway. What he said. What he did. He jumped out of bed and rushed into the bathroom, a wave of nausea coming over him. He hovered over the toilet, retching, but there was nothing left — only the feeling of emptiness in his stomach and a bitter taste in the back of his raw throat. </p><p> </p><p>Forcing his body upright, he splashed some cold water on his face then scrubbed his teeth violently, leaving the bristles of his toothbrush frayed and stained pink with blood. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror above the sink —  his image distorted by the trails of sprayed water droplets. A reminder of the tears she shed. That he caused. He deserved more than just the punishment of a vicious hangover and bleeding gums to right all he’s done wrong. </p><p> </p><p>With the pounding in his head intensifying, he opened his medicine cabinet, staring at the empty space between his Mega Man vitamins and a decade-old bottle of Drakkar Noir, in search of the small bottle of ibuprofen he kept in case of emergencies. It wasn’t there. He’d have to deal with the pain. Penance for his selfishness. For his audacity. For trying to take what would never belong to him. </p><p> </p><p>Leaving the tiny bathroom, he started to climb back into bed. That’s when he noticed it. On his nightstand was a glass of water, his ibuprofen bottle, his wallet and keys, all sitting in front of the picture of Lorelai and Rory from his drawer. </p><p> </p><p><em>Lorelai was here.</em> </p><p> </p><p>He ran his hand through his ruffled hair, trying to recall what had happened last night after he finished puking his guts out. All he could remember after leaving the bathroom was collapsing onto his bed. He had woken up in the same t-shirt and jeans as the night before. The only things removed were his boots, which were placed neatly by the front door, and his wallet from his back pocket.</p><p> </p><p>His heart sank into his already sour stomach. The thought of Lorelai taking care of him filled him with a mix of emotions, none of which he could even begin to process while his head felt three times its normal size. </p><p> </p><p>Grateful that Caesar was opening the diner this morning, Luke popped the top off of the ibuprofen bottle and swallowed three of the orange tablets, chasing it down with a few sips of the tepid water that she had left for him. Then he slumped down into the worn mattress, covering his head with his blanket while waiting for the pain to subside. He closed his eyes and thought of her. Of last night. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as he remembered. Maybe his recollection of the night was skewed from the whiskey, from how amazing it felt to be kissing her, from the enormity of his confession. He was suddenly filled with a glimmer of hope. Hope that she didn’t hate him. That maybe he could at least still salvage their friendship. </p><p> </p><p>Luke exhaled slowly, realizing, possibly too late, how fucking stupid he had been to think he would ever be able to let her go. </p><p> </p><p>As the medicine started to take effect, dulling the pain, Luke drifted off, getting another two hours of dreamless sleep. It didn’t exactly make him feel like a new man, but at least he felt somewhat functional. He sluggishly extracted himself out of bed, showered and dressed. As he buttoned his shirt, he noticed the blue baseball hat on the top shelf of his closet. His eyes lingered on it, the bright blue color standing out amongst the comparatively drab array of flannel plaid hanging in front of him. Almost without conscious thought or control, his hand gravitated towards it, the overwhelming need to obtain it too strong for him to resist. As he put it on, his mind flashed back to the time when Lorelai placed it on his head for the first time. It had fit perfectly. It still did. He knew it always would. </p><p> </p><p>Luke headed down the stairs and stopped at the curtain, listening to the orchestra of sounds coming from the other side — the mumbled conversations, the clinking of metal utensils against glass dishware, the jingling of the bells as customers came and went. He peeked through the slight opening that separated his home from his job, not expecting to see her today. After their night together, he was fairly certain that he’d have to seek her out if he had any chance of a reconciliation. Now it would be his turn to beg for forgiveness — hoping she could forget everything he did and said. Blame it on the booze if all else failed. </p><p> </p><p>Luke finally pushed through the curtain and got to work. </p><p> </p><p>For everyone but him, it was a typical day at the diner. Miss Patty and Babette were yapping about who knows what. Taylor and Kirk were planning the next ridiculous Stars Hollow festival. Nothing out of the ordinary took place. His misery, his humiliation, Lorelai’s degradation, remained private. That was the only thing providing him some relief. Had someone witnessed what unfolded in the alleyway, gossip of that magnitude would never remain secret — even with the threat of bodily harm as a deterrent. </p><p> </p><p>Throughout the day, he imagined Lorelai in his apartment while he laid passed out, wondering how long she stayed. How much she saw. And why she put that photograph on display for him to see. His mind vacillated between hopefulness and despair and the absolute absurd — Lorelai lovingly pulling the covers up over his sleeping form. Lorelai poisoning his ibuprofen tablets. Lorelai ransacking his apartment — with Jess’s belongings still scattered about, Luke would never have known the difference.</p><p> </p><p>And the picture — did she put it there to torture him? Was it her way of saying, look at what you’ll never have? </p><p> </p><p>The rest of the day seemed to move in slow motion— his head in a dark fog, clouded with the sadness and regret of the past night with Lorelai and Jim Beam. He took orders, refilled coffees, and flipped burgers, mindlessly doing the mundane work by rote. </p><p> </p><p>After all the customers were gone, the grills and coffee pots cleaned, and the chairs neatly stacked on top of the tables, Luke decided he needed some fresh air. A walk, perhaps, just to clear his head.  And maybe if he ended up walking by her street, he’d think about going to see her. Seemed reasonable, even responsible, considering the circumstances. So he slipped out the diner’s back entrance where less than twenty-four hours before, mistakes were made, and things were said that couldn’t be unsaid. He faced the same wall where he had held her, kissed her, touched her. In the same alleyway where she pushed him away and cried. Where he chose to confess his love for her with words tainted by ugliness and anger. </p><p> </p><p>His hands reached up, touching the cool bricks of the wall —remembering the moment. Missing the warmth of her skin that previously laid underneath his own. He leaned forward, lowering the top of his head until it came to rest on the rough surface — resisting the urge to pound it mercilessly through to the other side. </p><p> </p><p>Instead, he kicked it. Hard. Several times, ignoring the splintering pain spreading through his toes into his right foot. </p><p> </p><p>“Dammit! Fucking idiot! What were you thinking?! Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!” he shouted at himself as he continued to assault the wall with his foot, not caring at that moment who heard his self-deprecating rant. </p><p> </p><p>The alley light above him flickered, snapping him out of his tirade. Luke slumped forward, his hands remaining pressed against the bricks. His heart beating rapidly while he tried to catch his breath. </p><p> </p><p>As his breathing calmed, he felt a rush of adrenaline course through his body — the release of anger that he took out on the unsuspecting wall suddenly emboldening and empowering him. He straightened himself up and started his walk towards the Gilmore house.  </p><p> </p><p>Luke wandered a bit first. Taking detours as his courage began to diminish and self-doubt crept in. When he finally got to her house, he stood frozen on her front lawn. The porch lights were out and he could see the glow of the TV coming through the window in the living room — the contour of Lorelai’s head resting on the sofa. </p><p> </p><p>Treading lightly, he moved closer to the window, staying low, hoping not to alert Lorelai or her nosy neighbor to his presence. Now he could add peeping Tom and stalker to his list of misdeeds against Lorelai Gilmore. </p><p> </p><p>Wanting to get a better view, Luke squinted, trying to make out the expression on her face. She lifted her head, briefly turning it so he could see her profile silhouetted against the glow of the television, almost as if she knew he was there watching her, but remaining indifferent. </p><p> </p><p>She turned her attention back to the television — a black and white movie. He wondered if she preferred the bleakness of the colorless screen. Was she sad? Depressed? Was it because of Christopher? Or possibly, him?</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Luke.” Rory’s voice came from behind, startling him. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, hey, Rory. Uh, I was… uh... checking to see if your mom was home. What are you doing out so late?” Luke asked, attempting to evade the strangeness of the situation.</p><p> </p><p>“I was at Lane’s — returning some CDs I’d borrowed,” she answered unperturbed. “Do you want to come in? I’m sure Mom wants to talk to you. You guys really need to make up already. This fight has gone on way too long.” Rory’s face was filled with hope.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, well...uh...” Luke stalled, avoiding eye contact with the younger Gilmore. “You know, I just remembered — I think I might have left the stove on in the diner. So, I better get back there.” </p><p> </p><p>Rory’s smile faded. “Luke — ” </p><p> </p><p>“Can you do me a favor? Just don’t tell your mom I was here. I…. I’ll come back tomorrow.”  </p><p> </p><p>“Okay. Sure,” she responded quietly.</p><p> </p><p>“Bye, Rory,” Luke waved awkwardly, then sprinted down the driveway and all the way back to the diner. </p><p> </p><p>Breathless and sweaty, he entered his apartment and immediately noticed the red light of his answering machine blinking steadily. Wondering if Rory had told her mother about his strange visit, Luke tried to mentally prepare himself for the voice that would come out of the little black box. The likelihood of a very enraged Lorelai shouting obscenities at him; maybe even threatening him with a restraining order, were not out of the realm of possibility. With a shaky hand, he pressed play. </p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t her. </p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Luke. It’s Jess. Listen, I… I wanna come back to Stars Hollow. And live with you, if you’ll let me. I know I kinda screwed up before, but… I’m hoping you’ll give me another chance. So, call me back.” </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Crap.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t as though Luke had forgotten about Jess’s existence these last couple of days — he’d just been relegated to the bottom of the shit pile Luke had to deal with but couldn’t. </p><p> </p><p>He replayed the message, studying Jess’s tone of voice, trying to assess the sincerity of his words. Not that it actually mattered. Of course he’d let Jess come back. Both the guilt he felt and the soft spot he had for the kid would override any concerns about hidden agendas or ulterior motives. This would be Luke’s chance to make something right out of all the things he’d gotten wrong. To potentially be a positive influence in Jess’s life. He needed this second chance almost as much as Jess. But without Lorelai in his corner, could he succeed? He thought about it as he made himself a cup of tea, wishing he had restocked his beer supply instead. His father raised two kids without his mother. Without the woman he loved. </p><p> </p><p>The thought of his father’s love, his courage, filled him. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I can do this. I have to do this. I can’t fail him again.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Luke didn’t sleep well that night. He fought it — knowing that if he let his eyes close, the morning would come too soon. He needed time to think. About Jess. Lorelai. Rory. All of the people he’s disappointed over the last few weeks. Including himself. He sat up and switched on the lamp by his bed — picking up the picture of Lorelai and Rory that remained untouched since last night. Who would he be if he wouldn’t allow himself to love her anymore? That had been the core of his existence the past few years. He needed her to be in his life so he could adore her. Want her. Love her. Otherwise, he might just disappear into nothingness.</p><p> </p><p>—————————               </p><p> </p><p>Luke woke up the next morning, none the wiser and just as tired as the day before. He showered, dressed, and went down to the diner to work. The day seemed to play out like a carbon copy of the one before. The same customers. The same inane conversations. The same dark cloud hanging over the blue cap on his head. It was like living in the movie Groundhog's Day, but without the levity of Bill Murray’s witty dialogue. </p><p> </p><p>As he stood in front of the sink finishing up the last of the day’s dishes, he considered if tonight would be the night when he would muster up enough courage to finally face her. To find out once and for all if he’d miraculously get another chance to make things right with Lorelai.   </p><p> </p><p>He placed the last mug in the rack to dry and shut off the water from the faucet. As he turned to walk away, the continued pinging sound of dripping water echoed throughout the empty kitchen. He looked back, checking to see if the water was still running. It wasn’t. It was raining.</p><p> </p><p>Luke lifted his eyes to the ceiling, wondering if the rain was some sort of sign from god or mother nature or maybe even the spirit of his father, telling him tonight was<em> not</em> the right night to confront her. Or maybe that it <em>was</em> the right night. The invisible, most likely non-existent forces predictably unclear with their messaging. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Couldn’t they learn how to send a fax? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“We’re closed,” Luke shouted reflexively as he heard the bells on the door jingle. But he knew. Even before the words escaped his lips, he knew — it was her. </p><p> </p><p>He looked up at the ceiling again and gave a confused nod to whoever, or whatever, for answering him so swiftly. Then he tentatively walked out of the kitchen and stood silently behind the counter. </p><p> </p><p>There she stood in the middle of the diner. Rainwater rolling down her face, dripping off of her wavy black hair, and down her drenched black dress that clung snuggly to her body, creating a small puddle on the freshly mopped floor beneath her shoes. </p><p> </p><p>“Hi,” she said softly, standing awkwardly as her hands fidgeted with the soggy cloth belt of her black dress.  </p><p> </p><p><em>Another wrap dress. Fuck me.</em> </p><p> </p><p>Luke froze, his eyes widened, taking in her incredible beauty as she licked a single water droplet off of her top lip. </p><p> </p><p>“Sorry about the floor. Jeez, I must be a mess,” she said, looking down at her dress and then to the floor. </p><p> </p><p>Luke swallowed hard, then finally sprung into action. “Christ, Lorelai. You’re soaking wet,” he declared the obvious as he quickly ran to fetch a couple of large, clean towels and a fresh dish towel from the back storage area. </p><p> </p><p>He brought them over to her, slipping one of the large towels over her slender shoulders while dropping the other one over the puddle by her feet. He then handed her the dish towel and stepped back, watching as she gently blotted the rainwater from her face.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey. You, uh, want some coffee?” he asked, his voice unsteady as he carefully removed a chair from atop a nearby table, motioning for her to sit, then swiftly moved back behind the counter, assuming she’d answer in the affirmative. </p><p> </p><p>“No, thanks,” she responded quietly, continuing to stand in place.</p><p> </p><p>Luke snorted and shook his head, a wry smile crossing his lips. “Haven’t you ever heard of an umbrella?” he asked, trying to lighten the dark mood in the room.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, well, the rain just came out of nowhere. Apparently, my supernatural weather predicting abilities only work for snow.”</p><p> </p><p>Lorelai, careful to step over the towel beneath her, moved closer to the counter, allowing Luke to see the dark circles under her eyes that matched his own. Hers, though, only made her blue eyes brighter — hauntingly beautiful.</p><p> </p><p>“You sure you don’t want any coffee?” he asked her again, noticing a slight shiver as she clutched the towel a little tighter to her body. </p><p> </p><p>“No, really, I’m fine. How are you feeling? I mean, your hangover,” she asked shyly, lowering her gaze.  </p><p> </p><p>“I’m okay. Better. Thanks for, um, taking care of me after. You know, the water, the medicine. You didn’t have to do that.”  </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, well, I wanted to make sure you had your keys. And that you weren’t dead,” she smiled weakly, her eyes shifting from her feet to meet his eyes.   </p><p> </p><p>Luke tilted his head as he lifted his one brow. “Nope. Still alive. Although there were moments when death seemed like the better option.”      </p><p> </p><p>Lorelai removed the damp towel from her shoulders and draped it and the dish towel over the back of the chair that he had lowered for her. </p><p> </p><p>“I waited outside your door until I knew you were asleep. Man, do you snore!” she teased awkwardly, her hands going to her hips. </p><p> </p><p>Luke lowered his gaze. His heart was pounding out of his chest. Overwhelmed with shame. With guilt. With love.</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t deserve your help.” </p><p> </p><p>“Luke…” she whispered, shaking her head.</p><p> </p><p>“I came by your house yesterday but... I chickened out. I… Lorelai, I’m so sorry. I can’t believe what I… what happened,” Luke stammered, his voice filled with regret. </p><p> </p><p>“You don’t need to —”</p><p> </p><p>“Everything I said.” </p><p> </p><p>“Everything?” she questioned, the color draining from the already pale skin of her face. </p><p> </p><p>There would be no more pretending. No more lies. All their cards would be left on the table. He wasn’t ready to fold — not yet. But was she? </p><p> </p><p>He stared at the countertop, his fingertips pressing into the hard surface as he inhaled sharply, then released a slow, trembling breath. “I was horrible. I can’t even think about it without feeling sick to my stomach. I guess there’s no way we can just forget about all of it and go back to the way things were. You know, before that night. Before the accident. That we can just be friends again.” Luke finally glanced up at her. His eyes pleading with hers. </p><p> </p><p>“No. I don’t think we can.” </p><p> </p><p>He nodded slowly, his teeth digging into his lower lip  — wanting to feel the physical pain to match what was in his heart. “Yeah. Yeah. That’s what I thought.” Luke’s voice was thick with emotion; his eyes filled with moisture as the gravity of her words washed over him. “God, I really fucked this up, didn’t I.”  </p><p> </p><p>The sound of the rain hitting the glass of the diner windows filled the otherwise quiet room as Luke waited for her response. For confirmation. He held his breath. Seconds ticked by that seemed like minutes.  He couldn’t take it anymore —  her silence. </p><p> </p><p>“Say something. Please!” he begged of her, his face flushing red as he brought his hands up to the top of his head, his fingers interlaced as he pressed down on his hat and slumped forward. </p><p> </p><p>Appearing distracted and seemingly unaffected by his pleas, Lorelai tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. Then, she spoke. Softly. Barely a whisper. </p><p> </p><p>“Did you mean it? What you told me that night?”</p><p> </p><p>Luke's head jolted up, his hands dropping to his sides. He thought about asking her which part. Between the litany of shitty things that he spewed that night and the confession of love that he proclaimed — which part was she referring to? But he knew the answer. He didn’t want to pretend any longer. </p><p> </p><p>His body stiffened as his eyes bore into hers, wishing he could convey his answer wordlessly. “Yes,” he responded definitively.</p><p> </p><p>“Luke, I have to tell you something. I lied to you. I mean, I didn’t purposely lie.” </p><p> </p><p>“Lorelai —” </p><p> </p><p>He didn’t even know what words were about to come out of his mouth when he interrupted her — he just wanted to stave off the inevitable rejection of his attempted truce. </p><p> </p><p>“You need to let me talk. I’ve got so much to say.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay,” he acquiesced, then inhaled deeply, trying to prepare himself for whatever revelation she was about to confess. </p><p> </p><p>“After the car accident, I was upset with you, obviously, and I know it wasn’t your fault and I never should have blamed you,” Lorelai said, her words uncharacteristically slow and deliberate as she continued her monologue. “But Rory was hurt and I was scared and freaked. So I called Christopher. And for the first time ever, he actually came when I needed him. He was there for Rory and for me. I was surprised. Shocked. We spent a lot of time together over those few days —  not just the three of us, but I spent time alone with him. He’s really changed. He has a steady job and was being responsible… he broke up with his girlfriend, Sherry. And suddenly, I thought, wow. This is it. He’s finally gotten it together. Grown up. He’s become <em>that</em> man. Someone I could rely on. And maybe we could finally be a real family, the three of us, in the stupid, traditional, picket fence, grow old together kind of way. I mean, that’s what I always wanted. That’s what I’d been waiting for. That’s why I didn’t marry Max. The idea of Chris being ‘the one’ was always in the back of my mind.” </p><p> </p><p>Luke bowed his head and leaned forward, resting against the edge of the countertop. “Lorelai, you don’t need to —” </p><p> </p><p>“Please, let me say this,” she insisted, her body and face becoming more animated as she continued. “Chris proposed to me... the night before K.C’s.” </p><p> </p><p>Luke raised his head to look at her; his jaw clenched tightly as he held his breath in anticipation of the possible life-altering words that would follow. </p><p> </p><p>“I told him I had to think about it. Something just... didn’t feel right. I didn’t understand why at the time.</p><p> </p><p>But then the next morning,… Chris found out about Sherry and the baby. He didn’t want to miss out on raising another child. Which is great for Sherry. I mean, that was the right thing to do. To go back to her. And marry her. And be there for her while she’s pregnant and while her child grows up.</p><p> </p><p>So he left me. Us. I should have been devastated, right? Heartbroken that he was going to be there for her. That she gets the whole package,... with him. </p><p> </p><p>But the thing is, I wasn’t. Oddly enough, I was... relieved. I realized that all this time, I didn’t want him. Not really. It was just this naive, 16-year-old girl’s fantasy that I didn’t wanna let go of — the thought that we were meant to be.” She paused briefly, moving a few steps closer to the counter where Luke stood. “I suddenly felt… free. It was amazing. And all I could think about was that I wanted to talk to my best friend about it. But I couldn’t. Because you wouldn’t talk to me. You wouldn’t see me. I was so scared. So scared that I lost you forever.” </p><p> </p><p>Lorelai lowered her gaze, fidgeting as her eyes filled with tears, her voice raw with emotion. “What happened between us the other night, it wasn’t just you, Luke. I felt it, too. It was one of many moments since I’ve known you that I felt this… this energy. This connection between us. And I realized —afterward —that all this time, it was really you I wanted.” Lorelai drew in a long breath, her eyes returning to his before continuing. “It was you who I loved. I didn’t want to marry Max<em> or</em> Chris because of you, Luke.”</p><p> </p><p>Luke’s eyes widened in disbelief. Was he dreaming?  </p><p> </p><p>“All these years, I’ve been terrified. So terrified that I lied to myself. I lied to you. I lied to everyone. Because if I screwed it up, screwed <em>us</em> up, I would lose my best friend. I would lose you. So I hurt you. I pretended I didn’t know. I pretended I didn’t feel the same way. Does that make sense?”</p><p> </p><p>Luke tried to process her words, her facial expressions. All these years of waiting. Of hoping. It was finally real. This moment. In his diner. With the rain softly falling in the darkness outside. Lorelai Gilmore loved him. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, it makes perfect sense,” he responded softly, a smile threatening to cross his lips. </p><p> </p><p>“Luke, I’m in love with you. I think I’ve been for a while now. You’re the man who’s<em> always</em> been there for me. For Rory. So, no, I don’t want to forget about what happened the other night and what you said. And I don’t want to go back to the way things were. If you, um, haven’t changed your mind, that is,” she asked timidly. </p><p> </p><p>“No. I haven’t changed my mind,” he nodded, his voice low as he slowly stepped out from behind the counter.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, then, good,” she smiled, a single tear rolling down her pink cheek. </p><p> </p><p>“Good,” Luke beamed, the lines around his eyes crinkling as he moved to where she stood. </p><p> </p><p>“So, what do we do now?” she asked, her voice still carrying a slight tremor. </p><p> </p><p>“Well, maybe we can try going on a date.”</p><p> </p><p>Luke reached out, using his thumb to wipe the lone tear that lingered from her face.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah. I’d really like that,” she responded earnestly before her tone changed, returning to the flirty, bubbly version of Lorelai that he fell in love with. “But, it’s kinda late already; I mean, it is nighttime. The time when people usually go on dates. So, maybe we can consider this our first date. We are in a restaurant. And you <em>did</em> offer to buy me coffee.” </p><p> </p><p>“We are. I did.” </p><p> </p><p>“So, I don’t know; maybe we can skip to the end of the date. Because I’d really like to get to the kissing part. I mean, that was some truly amazing kissing the other night, mister.”</p><p> </p><p>“I think we can do that.”</p><p> </p><p>Luke wrapped one arm around her waist, then the other, pulling her body into his. So close he could feel her warm breath on his lips.  </p><p> </p><p>“And that other stuff. That was pretty incredible, too. Up until the part where you yelled at me and threw up.” She flashed him a coy smile as she lifted her arms, resting them on his broad shoulders. “I mean, I did want to get you in bed, but it would have been better had you been conscious.”</p><p> </p><p>Luke smiled back at her, shaking his head. “Will you just shut up already?” </p><p> </p><p>“Make me, Burger Boy.” </p><p> </p><p>Luke obeyed. He tilted his head and brought her to him, his eyelids fluttering shut as he reached her waiting mouth, brushing his lips gently over hers. Warm and soft, their parted lips melted together with love and tenderness.</p><p> </p><p>Luke pulled back slightly, searching her eyes one last time, needing reassurance before giving himself completely over to her. Before taking all that she was willing to give. He reached his hand up to caress her cheek, then threaded his fingers through her damp hair, tucking it behind her ear. “This is really happening. You and me,” he rasped, seeking her answer without actually asking a question. Then he moved his hand to cradle the back of her head as he leaned in, placing a soft kiss at the bend of her jawline.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes. It’s really happening,” she breathed, lifting her chin ever so slightly to accept his offering.</p><p> </p><p>He lowered his head and kissed her neck. His lips, the tip of his tongue just barely making contact with her skin. She tasted like rain. “You don’t hate me,” he muttered against her skin, his voice low, gravelly, as he trailed a vertical line of butterfly kisses down her neck. He then returned to her mouth with a soft, teasing kiss, briefly catching her bottom lip between his lips before releasing it slowly. </p><p> </p><p>“No. Never,” she moaned quietly, her hands sliding up to the base of his neck. </p><p> </p><p>His mouth skimmed the skin of her temple; then, his teeth grazed her lobe. “You love me,” he whispered tenderly in her ear. He felt her shiver.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes. Yes, Luke. I love you,” she answered, giving him all of the reassurance he needed.  </p><p> </p><p>Luke pulled away, their eyes connecting once more before his restraint broke and all he could think about was touching her, consuming her, being inside her. He pressed his parted lips hard against hers, their tongues finally meeting in a deepened kiss, while his strong arms enveloped her slender frame. </p><p> </p><p>Lorelai responded in kind, her mouth passionately and aggressively seeking, yet docilely and pliantly accepting, as she gripped the soft waves of hair at the nape of his neck, knocking the hat off of his head in the process. Their kiss – heated. Unbroken. Seemingly endless like the rain that continued to fall, crashing down to the earth in a splendid symphony of sounds; its song the perfect accompaniment to the passionate dance that was going on inside.</p><p> </p><p>He pressed her even closer — their two bodies, melding perfectly, intertwining, belonging together. </p><p> </p><p>As they mutually and greedily devoured one another, the force of their union caused their legs to tangle, sending Lorelai stumbling back into one of the tables. “Want you,” she uttered desperately against his lips. </p><p> </p><p>Lorelai pulled away this time, her hands leaving his neck and moving to his chest. He watched as her determined fingers moved swiftly, opening each of the small buttons that held his lightweight summer plaid shirt together. </p><p> </p><p>He took a step back as she continued her work. His eyes traveled up and down her body, drinking her in. Her black dress, still damp, clung to all the right places, outlining the soft curves of her hips, her breasts and the hardened tips of her nipples. </p><p> </p><p>“God, you’re beautiful,” he muttered as his large hand skimmed the side of her breast, his thumb teasing its peaked center while his other hand slid under her dress, caressing its way up the smooth skin of her thigh to where it met the rounded swell of her bottom. </p><p> </p><p>Distracted momentarily from her task, Lorelai's eyes drifted shut as she inhaled sharply. “You’re torturing me. Don’t stop.” </p><p> </p><p>Luke snorted a laugh as she freed the last button of his shirt and slid her hands under the hem of the grey t-shirt that remained. Letting out a frustrated groan, her hands traveled up to his muscular chest, her warm fingers caressing him, her touch radiating a heat that spread like fire to his core. “Too... many... layers,” she complained, her eyes pleading for his assistance. </p><p> </p><p>Never one to say no to Lorelai, he reluctantly withdrew his hands from her body and stripped off the flannel, then helped her lift the t-shirt over his head — both shirts falling softly to the floor. </p><p> </p><p>Lorelai looked at his strong body — her wide eyes dark with desire. She bit down on her lower lip and inhaled sharply. “Wow. Remind me to never mock you again about your Mega Man products.” </p><p> </p><p>“The door!” He suddenly remembered he hadn’t locked it. “Don’t move,” he commanded her with a shake of his finger, then quickly turned the lock on the door and closed the blinds, making sure the entire town didn’t have a front-row seat for the live sex show they were about to put on.</p><p> </p><p>He kept the lights on but dimmed them slightly. He didn’t want to miss any of this. Any of her.</p><p> </p><p>Returning, he recaptured her lips, hungrily kissing her — her fingers digging into the tight muscles of his back; his hands moving down her body until he found the belt of her dress. </p><p> </p><p>He broke the kiss and watched himself pull the bow free, finally unwrapping the only present he’s wanted in five years. “Merry Christmas,” he muttered to himself as the dress loosened around her.</p><p> </p><p>“Huh?... Oh, I get it,” she smiled knowingly, her cheeks flushing red as Luke pulled the two sides apart, revealing her creamy white skin, a sharp contrast to the black silky bra and panties, and the dress that still hung from her delicate shoulders. </p><p> </p><p>Luke swallowed hard, taking in the sight of Lorelai half-naked in the middle of his diner. He slipped the dress off of her, then his hands went to her waist, lifting her up and gently placing her on the edge of the table; upon the symbolic, yet seemingly appropriate, pedestal where she belonged. He slid his fingertips over the slight curve of her hips, slowly moving downward as his eyes followed their route. Luke stopped at her knees. He gently spread them apart, opening her; making room for him to fit inside the newly created space. </p><p> </p><p>Luke lingered there momentarily as she leaned back, her hands pressing into the table behind her — listening to the erotic sounds of Lorelai’s throaty pants echoing in perfect rhythm with the rise and fall of her heaving chest.</p><p> </p><p>Aching to regain contact, he briefly found her lips again, then trailed hot, opened-mouthed kisses down her neck to her breast while simultaneously reaching around to her back, effortlessly unhooking the clasp of her bra, discarding it with the rest of their clothing that laid scattered across the floor. </p><p> </p><p>“Impressive,” she breathed, biting her bottom lip while Luke’s gaze focused on the perfection in front of him. </p><p> </p><p>“Impressive,” he echoed, his voice low and husky as he watched her arch towards him — Luke ready to claim what she was so generously offering. He lowered his head, his mouth capturing one of her rose-colored buds, licking, sucking, and scraping it with his teeth while his hand caressed the soft skin around it.  </p><p> </p><p>“Luke?” Lorelai whispered sweetly. </p><p> </p><p>“Hmmm… ?”  </p><p> </p><p>Her words came out in short puffs of expelled air. “I think... you’re gonna... have to… reclean this table.”</p><p> </p><p>“Mmm-hmm,” Luke responded reflexively, her words going unprocessed as he continued his carnal pursuits.  </p><p> </p><p>Lorelai groaned softly as she reached between them, unbuckling Luke’s belt and opening the front of his worn jeans. She slipped her hand inside his boxer-briefs, stroking his hard length while her other hand burrowed down the back of him, massaging his firm ass, then running her finger lightly inside the crease. </p><p> </p><p>Luke let out a hoarse gasp — what she was doing to his body already bringing him too close to the brink. He pulled away from her, tucking himself back into his boxers, leaving Lorelai bereft and confused. He had realized at that moment that he wanted their first time to be more than just the fulfillment of his fantasies. It was so much more. She meant so much more. </p><p> </p><p>He leaned in and kissed her reassuringly. “You’re making me crazy,” he muttered fervently, feeling her lips curling up at the corners. </p><p> </p><p>“I like making you crazy,” she teased, then wrapped her legs around him, pulling him in closer; his constrained erection now pressed up against her warm, damp, satin-covered center as she rubbed herself against him.  </p><p> </p><p>“Upstairs. In my bed. I want this… us —.  I want to make love to you,” he stammered softly as he tipped her chin up to face him, his eyes relaying the same sentiment as his words.</p><p> </p><p>Without giving her time to protest, he lifted her up. Her legs clung tightly to his hips; her arms hugged his neck as he cradled her slender form securely in his strong arms. </p><p> </p><p>They kissed feverishly as he maneuvered them around the tables with ease — the layout of his diner engrained deeply in his brain from so many years of serving his hungry, demanding customers.</p><p> </p><p>Almost completing their journey unscathed, Lorelai let out a giggle as they momentarily got tangled in the curtain separating the diner from the stairs leading up to his apartment. </p><p> </p><p>“This is so much fun,” she laughed, her eyes sparkling with pure happiness as Luke held on to her with one arm while the other untangled them from the makeshift door. </p><p> </p><p>“I think we’re going to have to walk up the stairs if you want me to have any energy left to do you right. I mean, correctly. I mean… Oh, fuck it,” he said, breathless, lowering her down to her feet as she laughed even harder.</p><p> </p><p>Lorelai kicked off her shoes then picked them up, handing one to Luke and holding on to the other. “Here, Prince Charming. I’ll make it easy for you. It definitely fits.”  </p><p> </p><p>She kissed his cheek then turned from him, sprinting up the stairs and through the open door of his apartment. </p><p> </p><p>Only seconds behind, he entered the apartment and found her already in his bed, lying on her side with her head propped up in her hand. </p><p> </p><p>“You have a small bed,” she pointed out, the laughter gone, replaced by a voice thick with desire. </p><p> </p><p>There was no hesitation. No shyness or awkwardness. She watched as he pulled off his boots and socks, then lowered his jeans and boxers, stepping out of them, his arousal fully evident. Her eyes followed him as he moved to the foot of his bed. </p><p> </p><p>Taking her ankles in his hands, he gently rolled her over onto her back, then slowly slid her panties down and off of her exquisite body. He bent her knees and spread her open, moving her body at will before kneeling between her parted legs. His hands led the way as he placed hot, wet, lingering kisses up her thighs, alternating between them, wanting to taste every inch of her. </p><p> </p><p>Lorelai quivered with each touch of his hands, with every caress of his fingers, and every brush of his lips against her skin as he continued his ascent. </p><p> </p><p>With his body now stretched out flat and his head between her legs, he glanced up, finding her with hooded lids, a heaving chest, watching him as his fingers spread her delicate parts open. </p><p>“Please, Luke. Please,” she pleaded as she began rocking her hips in anticipation of the pleasure she was about to receive.</p><p> </p><p>His cock throbbed eagerly as he watched her watching him; as she begged for his touch. It flooded his senses, overwhelming him. “Christ, Lorelai. You have no idea what you're doing to me,” he muttered as his tongue began to teasingly trace her lips before delving into her warm, wet center.</p><p> </p><p>Lorelai let out a loud moan in response. “You’ve got it backwards… like your hat. You’re... doing it... <em>to me</em>,” she panted sweetly.</p><p> </p><p>“Will nothing shut you up?” he mumbled against her, causing a vibration that not only took her breath away, but left her wordless as well. </p><p> </p><p>Emboldened and entranced as she undulated against him, Luke began to ravish her — licking, tasting, and sucking, then replacing his tongue with two long, thrusting fingers. He moved his mouth to her clit, repeating the same mind-blowing motions, sending her into a frenzy as her head tipped back and her hands grasped the sheets, her body writhing with torturous pleasure. </p><p> </p><p>Each movement of her body — the arch of her hips, the slight bounce of her breasts, how her heels dug into his back — driving him crazy with desire. And the noises. The delectable noises she made — breathless gasps and quickened moans as he continued to feast on her, driving her up; closer and closer to the point of no return. </p><p> </p><p>He wanted this. Her. For five long years. Five years of <em>her</em> having the control. The power. But in his bed, in his apartment, with his mouth and with his hands, she handed it over to him willingly and he took it. Five years of yearning, of fantasizing this moment couldn’t come close to what it felt like to finally have her in his possession. In his mouth. She was his.</p><p> </p><p>“Need you, now. Please... Inside me,” she whimpered, her hands curled around his muscular biceps, nudging him up towards the top of the bed.</p><p> </p><p>His splayed hands slid slowly up her naked body, touching every part of warm skin within the far-reaching range of his long fingers. Her flat stomach, soft breasts, delicate shoulders; his eyes enjoying the glorious view along the way until he reached his destination, poised over her, his palms pressed into the small areas of mattress that bracketed her face. </p><p> </p><p>Their eyes met — his dark blue irises falling deeply into a sea of the most beautiful blue imaginable — he was drowning in her. His control finally close to breaking. Lorelai reached out her hand and touched his cheek. Her soft fingers skimmed along the roughness of his unshaven skin. Her eyes saying it all. So full of love. Of desire. Of need. Her want, as great and as deep as his. Rescuing him as he had done for her so many times in the past. </p><p> </p><p>Their eyes stayed connected as he pushed into her with a groan so raw —feeling profound pleasure while simultaneously letting go of all the anger and pain of the past. Then he stilled. Deep inside of her. Their two bodies, their two souls now one. He wanted to remember this moment forever. The way her face looked — her eyes glazed over, her lips slightly parted, her skin flushed pink, her black hair, curled and untamed, fanned out over his white pillowcase. Beautiful. </p><p> </p><p>How her body felt — so warm and wet and tight — he’d never felt anything this amazing, this erotic before. Their connection, so intense, so intimate, filled with so much love. </p><p> </p><p>At first, his movements inside her were tantalizingly slow; pulling out almost completely and then pushing back into her, deep, filling her, over and over, drawing out their mutual pleasure. </p><p> </p><p>But the slow, languorous pace didn’t last long. She soon wrapped her long legs around him while her hands busied themselves, pressing desperately into his ass, matching his every thrust with her own. His gaze alternated between watching her face and watching their bodies connecting. Their synchronized moans grew louder as Luke pushed into her harder and faster. </p><p> </p><p>Shifting his body forward, he took her hands in his, pinning them above her head, lacing his finger through hers, then closing them shut. He ducked his head down, taking her nipple into his mouth, sucking it, his teeth grazing the sensitive peak while still thrusting into her. “Luke,” her breath came out in stifled moans as he pushed deeper and deeper. Again and again. </p><p> </p><p>Desperately needing to be even closer, he relinquished her breast so that his body laid flush against hers. Skin against skin. His hard chest rubbing up against her soft breasts. His stiff shaft grinding against her sensitive clit. Every part of them connected as he rested his forehead against hers and gazed into her eyes. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, god, Luke!”  Lorelai Gilmore was coming undone. </p><p> </p><p>He kissed her parted lips sweetly, watching her face as she came, her body spasming around him, his name, muffled, tumbling once again from her lips. </p><p> </p><p>Feeling her orgasm clenching around him, hearing her call out his name, sent Luke spiraling out of control. He slammed into her, grunting breathlessly, pounding her mercilessly, fully enraptured. With just a few more hard thrusts, he succumbed to the overwhelming pleasure, crying out as he exploded into her, long and hot.   </p><p> </p><p>He collapsed on her, spent, as they both shuddered, breathless, their hearts beating rapidly in unison. </p><p> </p><p>When he was finally able to catch his breath, he lifted his head, watching her face until her lids blinked open. Then he kissed her softly. </p><p> </p><p>“I love you,” he whispered, then kissed her again as he pulled out of her, immediately rolling her so she was on top of him; her head resting on his heart. </p><p> </p><p>Lorelai’s fingers played with the soft hair that covered much of his torso. “Wow, Luke. That was... incredible.” She lifted her head and placed a few delicate kisses on his chest. “And I thought your coffee-making skills were the best thing about you. You really are the perfect man,” she said, a wide, satisfied smile lighting up her face. </p><p> </p><p>“Really. So you like me better than my coffee.” </p><p> </p><p>“Eh, maybe you’re a close second. Third, if I consider what you can do with pie,” she teased. </p><p> </p><p>“Now that’s definitely dirty,” Luke snorted, stroking the soft skin on her back. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, yeah. There’s going to be lots of dirtiness in our future,” she purred. “As well as movies and town meetings and Stars Hollow festivals...”</p><p> </p><p>“Hey. I’ll agree to the dirty stuff and movies. You’re on your own with the meetings and festivals.” </p><p> </p><p>“But, Luuuke,” she cajoled, running her hand down his chest and stomach, letting her fingers play with the line of hair leading down to his pelvis. </p><p> </p><p>“Okay. Maybe a few town meetings, but I draw the line at the festivals.” </p><p> </p><p>“What if I wear one of my wrap dresses?”</p><p> </p><p>“Fine.” Luke rolled his eyes, knowing she had the tools to render him powerless. “Two festivals a year, but no more.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ha! You caved fast. This has been a really great first date,” Lorelai giggled, placing another kiss on his chest. </p><p> </p><p>“Come here,” he whispered, tilting his head down to face her as she lifted her head, planting a warm kiss on her parted lips. “I still can’t believe this is really happening.”  </p><p> </p><p>She nuzzled back into his warm body, their arms wrapped around each other in harmonious bliss. </p><p> </p><p>“Do you remember when we first met?” she asked as his fingers lightly stroked her arm.</p><p> </p><p>“It was at Luke’s. Lunch. It was a very busy day, the place was packed, and this person  —" </p><p> </p><p>“Ooh, is it me? Is it me?” she asked enthusiastically. </p><p> </p><p>“I was with a customer. She interrupts me, wild-eyed, begging for coffee, so I tell her to wait her turn. Then she starts following me around, talking a mile a minute, saying god knows what. So finally I turn to her, and I tell her she's being annoying — sit down, shut up, I'll get to her when I get to her.  She asked me what my birthday was. I wouldn't tell her. She wouldn't stop talking. I gave in. I told her my birthday. Then she opened up the newspaper to the horoscope page, wrote something down, tore it out, handed it to me. So I'm looking at this piece of paper in my hand, and under Scorpio, she had written, ‘you will meet an annoying woman today. Give her coffee and she'll go away.’ I gave her coffee.”</p><p> </p><p>“But she didn't go away.”</p><p> </p><p>“She told me to hold on to that horoscope, put it in my wallet, and carry it around with me. One day, it would bring me luck.”</p><p> </p><p>Luke removed his arm from around her and sat up, reaching over to his wallet on his nightstand. He opened it up and took out a small scrap of paper and handed it to Lorelai. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh my god. You kept this? You kept this,” she said, her eyes widened, her voice thick with emotion as she raised herself up to face him. </p><p> </p><p>“Five years.” Luke paused, inhaling deeply, taking a moment to try and make sure his declaration of love came out right this time. “Lorelai, I knew from the moment I met you that… Never in my wildest dreams did I… God, I really suck at this. Let me try again.” Luke took another deep breath and exhaled. “You drive me crazy. In the best possible way. And.. after making love. After hearing that you love me back — it’s just…,” Luke swallowed back the lump in his throat, his eyes filling with moisture. “I need you to know that… this thing we’re doing — you and me — I’m all in. Are you.., um, okay with that?”  </p><p> </p><p>She touched his chin, tilting it down as her lips met his in a lingering, warm kiss. “Oh, Luke. Yes. I’m so in. I’m just sorry it took me so long to come to my senses.”</p><p> </p><p>“Lucky for you, I’m a very patient man,” Luke chuckled, wiping away the one tear that escaped his eye as he placed the horoscope back into his wallet and onto the dresser. </p><p> </p><p>He pulled her back to his chest. “So, Cinderella, do you have to be back by midnight?” </p><p> </p><p>“Well, I don’t think we both can actually sleep in this teeny tiny bed. Plus, there’s Rory."</p><p> </p><p>“Right. Of course. Do you think she’ll be okay with this? With us?” he asked, his brow furrowing with concern.</p><p> </p><p>“She’s great with it, actually. She’s the one who pushed me out the door tonight to come here. She told me about your visit last night. She loves you, you know. You’ve been a better father to her than her real father. You’ve been there for both of us and have never let us down. You really are the best man I know, Luke Danes. And I’m so sorry for ever doubting, even for a second, how much you love both of us." </p><p> </p><p>“It’s okay. You were scared. I understand. I was scared, too.” </p><p> </p><p>“And, about Jess. You were right. I didn’t give him a fair chance. I didn’t think about how he must have felt. Being in a new place. Not feeling wanted by his own mother. I should have understood and been more patient.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, uh, speaking of Jess. He called the other day. He wants to come back,” Luke said with a long sigh.</p><p> </p><p>“Really?”</p><p> </p><p>“But listen, things will be different. I’m not going to let him hurt Rory or anyone else in this town.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, Luke. As a parent, I know from experience that you can’t control everything that your kid does. Believe me. But I’m glad he’s coming back. He’s your family and I want to make this right. And I know Rory wants him back…  Oh, no. Poor Dean.”</p><p> </p><p>“Dean?” </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, Dean. It’s no different being stupid in love at age seventeen than it is at age thirty-something. Rory is totally into Jess. Although she won’t admit it to me, or herself, at this point.”</p><p> </p><p>“Huh. Wow! So Rory likes Jess. I thought maybe, but I wasn’t sure. Look, I know Jess seems tough sometimes  — but I think he really likes Rory.  He left Stars Hollow to make it easier on her and me. And Rory’s a good kid. Hopefully, she’ll rub off on him.”<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Hopefully,” Lorelai sighed. “Either way, it’s settled. Jess will come back and <em>you</em> will get a bigger bed.”</p><p> </p><p>“Tomorrow. I’ll get the bed tomorrow. Although if Jess is here, I’m not sure how we’ll get much use out of it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, we’ll find a way. I promise you that.” </p><p> </p><p>“It’s only ten o’clock. Way before midnight and you turn into a pumpkin. You think we have time for a second go-around?” he asked, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead as his fingers glided down her back to her perfect ass.  </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, god, yes!” </p><p> </p><p>Lorelai lifted herself up to straddle him. “This is going to work, isn’t it — you and me. We are going to be soooo happy together,” she smiled down at him, the light from above casting a soft glow around her while the loose curls of her hair cascaded down, framing her beautiful face. She looked like an angel. </p><p> </p><p>Looking up at her, he wondered how his life, in the blink of an eye, went from hell to heaven. From black and white to technicolor. How miraculous it all was. Being loved by her. Feeling so incandescently happy. </p><p> </p><p>Luke reached up, his lips forming a wide smile as his fingers lovingly skimmed the contours of her face. “So happy,” he repeated, pulling her down as he rose up, sealing their future, their lives together, with a perfect kiss.  </p><p><br/>
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</p><p>THE END!</p><p><br/>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks to all for reading, commenting, and hitting the kudos button.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks to my Smut Factory, Inc. friends for their help and encouragement! And a special thanks to my hubby for putting up with my ever-changing obsessions and reluctantly editing this fic.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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